Page 74 of Too Old for This

Above me, Norma walks down the hall and into the guest room. The closet doors bang open.

I’m able to bend down and untie my ankles. My hands feel clumsy and slow, like they aren’t reacting as quickly as they should. Still sluggish from the sleeping pill. Finally, I get the rope undone, and I’m able to grab Norma’s purse.

“Where?” she yells.

“See that old vacuum cleaner? On the other side, in the boxes.”

I pull out her makeup bag. Eyeliner, mascara, blush brush, and concealer—not a good one, given the results. I find a pair of nail clippers.

They’ll have to do. My final option is the lighter.

“Where?” she screams. Louder. Angrier.

My fingers tremble as I try to clip my way through the rope. The pain in my shoulder hasn’t gone away, and all this exertion can’t be good for my heart.

Footsteps above me. Norma walks back down the hall to the stairs.

Clip, clip, clip.

A centimeter or two at a time. If I were stronger, I’d be able to rip this rope apart.

“I don’t see anything!”

“Did you look inside the boxes?” I yell.

“Yes!”

She is on the stairs, her heavy footprints descending.

Clip, clip.

The front door is less than twenty feet away, but I can’t get to it without her seeing me. And she’s a lot stronger than I am.

Clip.

Done.

I pull the rope off and get up from the chair. Every muscle is stiff, and both of my hips hate me. I clamp my teeth down on my tongue to keep from screaming.

Norma’s foot slams down into the foyer. “What the hell kind of game are you playing?”

The only available direction is backward. My family room has three doors. The first is the open doorway to the foyer, and the second leads to a half bath. The last one is in the far corner and leads to the study, though I haven’t used that room in years. I rush into it, close the door behind me, and lock it.

On the other side, I hear Norma’s gasp. She has discovered I’m no longer tied up. Her gasp is followed by a deep, primal scream.

“Lottie!”

How can I not smile at that?

The study has another door. It leads to the laundry room, then a hallway behind the main staircase, and, finally, into the kitchen.

And the back door of the house.

The floor plan goes in a circle. Maybe because the original family had servants, and this made it easier. Or maybe because people snuck around a lot back then.

If Norma stays in the family room, that’s my ticket out of this hellish night. But if she steps back into the foyer, she’ll have a clear view down the hall, into the kitchen.

I hear a crash.