Chapter 26
The scream is barely past my lips when the basement lights snap on, extinguishing the darkness.
I lift a hand to shield my eyes, squinting against the sudden glare.
When they adjust, I see Catherine standing at the other end of the basement.
I don’t know how she got there—I didn’t hear the elevator—but it doesn’t matter. I’m saved.
I jump off the love seat and rush to the cage door, shouting to get her attention in case she hasn’t seen me.
But Catherine is already hurrying toward the cage.
“Please get me out of here,” I beg as she draws close. “I’m locked in.”
She grips the handle, and the door swings wide.
I stare at her, dumbfounded. “I swear, it wouldn’t open.”
“That’s impossible. I gave you the padlock.” Catherine observes me with narrowed eyes. “You must have been doing something wrong. And why were you sitting there in the dark like that?”
“Jennifer came down to do laundry. She didn’t see me, and switched the lights off when she left,” I tell her, hurrying out of the cage and turning to look at the offending door. “Maybe the latch jammed or something.”
“I don’t see how.” Catherine closes the door, then opens it again. “See. Works fine.”
I want to tell her that I’m not stupid. That the door really wouldn’t open, but the look on her face tells me it’s pointless.
There’s one thing that I can’t ignore. The shuffling, scratching sounds.
Now that the lights are back on and I’m safe, the idea of some phantom child crawling toward me feels absurd.
Yet I heard something. It was real. And now that I think about it, there is one obvious culprit. “Have you ever had rats down here?”
“Rats?” Catherine pulls a face. “I hardly think so. Why?”
“I heard something moving around after the lights went off.”
“I assure you we don’t have vermin in this building,” Catherine replies with conviction before her face softens. “Look, I’m sure it was very stressful when you thought the cage door wouldn’t open, but it was probably just your mind playing tricks.”
It was nothing of the sort, but I really want to get out of this basement. Like, right now. Which is why I nod and force a smile. “Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m sure that I am.” Catherine holds out her hand.
I look at her blankly.
“The padlock? So that I can lock up . . . for real.”
The way she phrases her request irritates me, but I hold my tongue, even as I fish the padlock from my pocket and give it to her.
“Thank you, my dear.” Catherine secures the door, then leads me back toward the elevator.
Unable to help myself, I cast a quick glance back over my shoulder toward the cage, past the piles of old furniture to the crib, and the bumblebee toy that I was sure had moved from one side to the other. Except now the crib is empty. The toy is gone.
I come to a halt and turn around, walk back toward the cage.
That’s when I see the bumblebee. It’s sitting on the love seat and staring back at me. The same love seat that I was occupying only moments before.
Catherine follows me, places a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay, my dear?”
“I’m fine,” I reply, even though I’m not. I can’t stop staring at that bee.
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I don’t like basements, that’s all,” I tell her, because what else can I say? Toys don’t move by themselves. So maybe it was a ghost . . . Or perhaps I’m losing my mind.