Chapter 2: The Voice Beneath the Bed
Tom typed the address into the dispatch system with fingers that suddenly felt too large for the keyboard.
"Can you tell me where you live, Mia?"
The little girl recited the address slowly, as if she had practiced it many times. It belonged to a quiet neighborhood outside Lakeview—a place where emergency calls were usually for barking dogs or elderly falls.
Two patrol units were already rolling before she finished speaking.
"You're doing great," Tom said. "Can you stay on the phone with me?"
"I can't talk loud."
"That's okay. Whisper."
A long pause.
Then she whispered something that made every hair on Tom's arms stand up.
"They think I'm asleep."
"They?"
"The man under my bed... and the lady in my closet."
Tom's pulse hammered.
"Where are your mommy and daddy?"
"My mommy went to work."
"And your daddy?"
Another silence.
"I don't have one."
Tom immediately flagged the call as a possible home invasion.
"Mia, can you see the person under your bed?"
"No."
"Then how do you know someone's there?"
"I can see their shoes."
Tom swallowed.
"What color are the shoes?"
"They're muddy."
He heard it then.
Very faint.
Not breathing.
Not static.
A low male voice.
"...wait until she's asleep..."
Tom's blood turned cold.
The audio was weak, but unmistakable.
Someone else was inside that room.
May you like
He muted his microphone for one second.
"Officers need to move. Now."
