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We both ran down the hallway, Indigo’s presence hot on our backs. Inside the bedroom, Maggie sat on her bed, her knees to her chin. Flames of fear danced in her eyes.
“You’ll have to carry her,” I told Jess. “I don’t—I don’t trust myself to do it.”
There was no second-guessing on Jess’s part. She went straight for the bed and scooped Maggie into her arms.
“Mommy, I’m scared,” Maggie said.
Jess kissed her cheek. “I know, honey. But there’s nothing to be frightened of.”
It was a lie. There was plenty to be afraid of.
Especially when the armoire doors flew open. A blast of hot air burst from inside, sending Jess reeling backward. Maggie rose from her arms, as if lifted by the scalding wind. She was then pulled toward the armoire, riding through midair, a screaming, crying tangle of limbs and hair.
Indigo had our daughter.
I reached the armoire just as Maggie vanished into it. When the doors began to close, I threw myself between them. The wood squeezed my ribs as I reached into the armoire—now a dark, fathomless space. I screamed Maggie’s name and flailed my arms until one of my knuckles brushed her ankle.
I clamped my fingers around it and began tugging, hand over hand up her leg. When I reached her knee, I pulled harder until Maggie abruptly broke free from the armoire. We fell to the floor, Maggie on top of me, still screaming, still crying.
Behind us, Jess began to move the bed, shoving it against the armoire to block the doors. While it wasn’t enough to trap Indigo inside, I hoped it would at least let us escape in the next few minutes.
That job done, we left the room and ran down the hall. Jess with Maggie, me with the camera, snapping off a shot of the empty hallway behind us.
Click.
Hum.
Slide.
I checked the photo as it spread into view.
Nothing.
Down the steps we went, Jess in the lead. Maggie had gone limp in her arms, frozen with shock. At the bottom of the stairs, I took another photo.
Click.
Hum.
Slide.
Still nothing.
“I think she’s gone,” I announced.
“Are you sure?” Jess said.
“I don’t see her.” I held up a hand, seeing if I could feel Indigo’s white-hot presence. “I don’t feel her, either.”
I took one last picture—Jess holding Maggie at the base of the stairs.
Click.
Hum.
Slide.
“We can’t stay here,” Jess said. “We need to pack up and leave before she comes back.”