The radio was always at full volume, loud enough to drown out voices.
When I knocked on the door, Jason took a while to open it, preventing me from seeing.
Lizzie always seemed happy. Relaxed. That made everything worse.
I grew up in a house full of secrets. My mind is used to expecting the worst.
One afternoon, when Jason went to the store and Lizzie was in her room, I opened the garage. Nothing seemed amiss. Even so, the covered window made the room feel closed in, hidden.
I found an old Wi-Fi camera we used as a baby monitor.
My hands were shaking as I hid it in a corner.
That night, when they returned to the garage, I opened the application.
Jason moved the rug aside.
Below was a hidden door.
My stomach turned.
He lifted it, revealing a narrow staircase leading to the basement. He told Lizzie to wait and disappeared. When he returned, he was carrying a flat package wrapped in brown paper and turned up the radio.
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