Chapter 1
The scream tore through the quiet afternoon.
I froze on the front porch, my hand raised to knock. The plate of chocolate chip cookies in my hands suddenly felt heavy. I'd just moved in next door three days ago, and I'd wanted to be friendly.
Instead, I walked straight into a nightmare.
Through the screen door, I saw everything.
A woman with sharp eyes and a cold mouth stood over a tiny, trembling girl. The woman—Linda, I'd heard the husband call her—held a small wooden locket in her hand.
The little girl couldn't have been more than seven. Emma. I'd seen her playing in the yard once, drawing with chalk on the driveway. She'd waved at me with a smile that lit up her whole face.
That smile was gone now.
"This garbage has no place in my house!" Linda screamed.
She hurled the locket to the floor.
Emma let out a cry of pure despair. It was the sound of someone losing the last piece of the person they loved most in the world.
She lunged for the locket as it skittered across the hardwood floor.
But Linda was faster.
She stuck out her foot and kicked the locket under the couch.
Then she shoved Emma. Hard.
The little girl lost her balance. She fell backward, her head striking the sharp corner of the coffee table with a sickening crack.
My heart stopped.
Emma lay still on the floor. A trickle of blood ran down her forehead, pooling in her soft brown hair.
I didn't think. I just moved.
I pushed the door open and ran inside. The plate of cookies crashed to the floor, but I didn't care.
"What have you done?" I shouted, dropping to my knees beside the little girl.
Linda stared at me, startled. Then her face twisted into something grotesque—a mask of fake concern, complete with trembling lips and well-timed tears.
"Oh my goodness, she fell!" she cried, rushing over. "She was running and tripped! I tried to catch her!"
I looked up at her, my hands trembling as I checked Emma's pulse. Strong and steady, thank God. But her eyes were closed, and she wasn't moving.
"I saw everything," I said, my voice cold with rage. "You pushed her. You kicked her locket under the couch. That locket was her mother's."
Linda's eyes narrowed. The fake tears vanished as if they'd never been there.
"You're mistaken," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You saw nothing."
Just then, the front door opened.
A man walked in—tall, tired-looking, holding a briefcase. Emma's father. David.
He saw his daughter on the floor, blood on her face. He saw me kneeling beside her, a stranger in his house. He saw his wife standing there, now back to feigning tears.
"What happened?" he demanded, rushing forward.
Linda ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing into his shoulder.
"David! It was terrible! She was running with that old locket of her mother's and she tripped! I tried to stop her!"
David looked at me, his eyes questioning, confused.
I opened my mouth to tell him the truth. To tell him everything I'd seen.
But before I could speak, Linda whispered something in his ear.
His face changed.
The confusion vanished. The concern hardened into something cold. Something angry.
He looked down at his daughter on the floor.
Then he looked at me.
And his eyes hardened like stone.
"Thank you for your concern," he said, his voice ice. "But this is a family matter. I think you should leave."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"But I saw—"
"I said leave," he repeated, taking a step toward me. He was trying to intimidate me.
I looked at Emma, still unconscious on the floor. So small. So vulnerable.
I looked at Linda, peeking over David's shoulder with a cold, triumphant smile.
And I realized with a sickening feeling that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
And it wouldn't be the last.
Not unless I did something.
I stood up slowly. I made sure my hand was in my pocket, my fingers wrapped around my phone.
"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll leave."
But as I walked to the door, I felt the weight of my phone in my pocket.
I'd pressed record the second I heard that first scream.
I had the entire thing.
Every word. Every shove. Every cruel kick of that precious locket.
And I was going to make sure everyone saw it.
I stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind me.
I leaned against the porch railing, my heart pounding.
I pulled out my phone and stopped the recording.
I watched the video.
And what I saw made my blood run even colder.
Because at the very end, just as David was telling me to leave, Linda looked directly at the door.
Right at me.
May you like
And she mouthed two words.
"Try me."
