Chapter 5
One night, things got worse.
Much worse.
I was home alone.
Mark was working late.
I was in the kitchen making dinner.
And then I heard it.
A sound at the back door.
Like someone trying to open it.
I froze.
The sound continued.
The doorknob turning. Rattling.
I grabbed my phone.
I dialed 911.
"Someone's trying to break into my house," I whispered.
The operator told me to stay calm.
To lock myself in a room.
That the police were on their way.
I ran upstairs.
I locked myself in the bedroom.
I pushed a chair against the door.
I sat on the floor in the corner, my phone in my hand, my heart pounding.
I heard the back door open.
Someone was inside the house.
I could hear footsteps.
Coming up the stairs.
I held my breath.
The footsteps stopped outside the bedroom door.
The doorknob turned.
Once.
Twice.
And then...
Banging.
Pounding on the door.
"Let me in, you bitch!"
It was Evelyn.
Her voice was full of rage.
"I know you're in there! Open the door! I just want to talk! You've ruined my life! You've taken everything from me!"
She pounded harder.
The door shook.
"You'll pay for this! You'll pay for turning my son against me! You'll pay for everything!"
I pressed myself against the wall, tears streaming down my face.
I was terrified.
But I was also angry.
This was my house.
My home.
And she had no right to be here.
No right to terrorize me.
Finally, I heard sirens.
Loud. Getting closer.
The pounding stopped.
I heard Evelyn running.
Footsteps down the stairs.
The back door slamming.
Silence.
A few minutes later, the police arrived.
They searched the house.
They found the back door forced open.
They found marks on the bedroom door.
They took my statement.
They told me they would increase patrols around our house.
But they also told me what I already knew.
Without proof that it was Evelyn, they couldn't arrest her.
Mark came home while the police were still there.
He was white with fear.
He ran to me and held me tight.
"Are you okay?" he kept asking. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm okay," I said, crying into his chest. "I'm okay."
But I wasn't okay.
Not really.
I was scared.
Scared to be alone in my own house.
Scared to go to sleep at night.
Scared that Evelyn would come back.
And next time...
Next time she might not stop at pounding on the door.
That night, Mark held me while I cried.
"This is all my fault," he said, his voice breaking. "I brought her into our lives. I let her do this to you."
"No," I said. "This is her fault. Only hers. And we're going to stop her. Together."
But I didn't know how.
May you like
And I was starting to wonder if we ever would.
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