Chapter 1 - The Sanctuary in the Dark
"I promise," I whispered, kneeling beside the bed and bringing my face level with Emma’s. "The buzzing machine will never come near you again. Nobody in this house will ever hurt you again."
I placed a soft, thick fleece hat over her bare, traumatized head. The tiny razor cuts on her scalp tore at my heart, but I kept my breathing even, keeping my trembling hands steady. Emma’s brown eyes searched mine, looking for the security I was desperately trying to project.
I zipped the suitcase shut, lifted Emma into my left arm, and picked up the bag with my right hand.
When I stepped back into the hallway, the living room was quiet. Richard was sitting in his leather recliner, nursing a glass of scotch while the television droned softly in the background. Margaret was in the kitchen, casually cutting apples into neat slices, while Lauren remained sprawled on the sofa, her fingers flying across her phone screen.
They thought I was retreating to my room to cry. They thought the blow to my mouth had broken my spirit, just as it had always silenced Daniel whenever he tried to stand up to his father.
When I walked straight toward the front door, Margaret paused, her knife hovering over the cutting board.
"Where do you think you’re going with that bag?" she demanded, her voice dropping into an ominous register.
"I’m leaving," I said without stopping.
Richard slammed his glass onto the side table. "You aren't taking my granddaughter anywhere in the middle of a snowstorm, Claire. Put the bag down."
I reached the doorway, set the suitcase down for a split second, and unlocked the deadbolt. "Touch me or my daughter again, Richard, and the police will be here before you can light your next cigarette."
"Daniel won't allow this!" Margaret shouted, stepping out of the kitchen with her hand raised in a commanding gesture. "You think you can just walk out with his child? He will divorce you! He will take her away from you!"
"Let him try," I replied, my voice chillingly calm.
I grabbed the handle of my bag, stepped out into the carpeted building corridor, and slammed the heavy door behind us. The lock clicked shut with a sharp, definitive sound.
As I rode the elevator down to the underground parking garage, my mind was racing. I couldn't go to a hotel in downtown Chicago—they would easily track my credit cards if Daniel’s family decided to follow us. My parents were gone, and my sister lived in Seattle. I needed a sanctuary where Emma would be warm, safe, and entirely hidden.
I pulled out my phone and dialed my closest friend, Maya, who owned a secluded cabin in Galena, two hours west of the city. Maya answered on the second ring.
"Claire? Aren't you supposed to be coming back from your business trip today?"
"Maya..." My voice finally cracked. The composure I had held in front of my mother-in-law shattered into ragged hitches. "I need help. Richard hit me. Margaret... Margaret shaved Emma's head. They accused her of stealing."
"What?!" Maya screamed into the receiver. "Are you out of your mind? Where are you right now?!"
"In the garage. I’m getting into my car."
"Listen to me," Maya said, her tone instantly shifting into fierce, pragmatic protective mode. "Drive straight to my apartment in Oak Park. I’ll meet you at the gate. Do not answer Daniel’s calls. Do not talk to any of them until we figure out our next move."
I strapped Emma securely into her car seat in the back of my SUV, tucked her yellow blanket around her chin, and locked the doors. As I drove out of the garage into the biting, whiteout conditions of a Chicago winter night, my phone began to vibrate in the cup holder.
Daniel calling.
I let it ring until it went to voicemail. Ten seconds later, a text popped up on the dashboard screen:
Daniel: Claire, what the hell is wrong with you? My mom just called me crying! She said you threatened them and ran off into a blizzard with Emma because of a misunderstanding! Call me right now!
A bitter laugh escaped my split lip. A "misunderstanding."
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I turned off the phone, merged onto the snow-slicked highway, and looked in the rearview mirror at my daughter, who had already fallen asleep from sheer emotional exhaustion.
They thought they had broken me. They didn't realize they had just unleashed a mother who had nothing left to lose.
