In the cellar at the south end of town, we found her. Her whole body was black and purple.
I ran straight for the police station.
But my husband's family dragged me back.
Austin's voice was flat, indifferent—and my heart stopped cold.
Ignoring their attempts to stop me, I fought to call the police—but they locked me in the same cellar where my daughter died.
I suffocated. Buried alive.
"Mom, when are we going to Grandma's house? Dad said Tommy's gonna take me to play hide-and-seek."
Those three words hit me like lightning. Every hair on my body stood on end.
Austin smiled at my daughter. "Don't worry, Maya. We'll be at Grandma's in an hour. You can play hide-and-seek with Tommy when we get there."
The car sped along while my mind raced. I couldn't read Austin's expression, couldn't tell if he knew what was coming. But this time, I would not let my daughter play that game.
After Maya fell asleep, I scrolled through my WeChat contacts. There—she lived nearby. She could help. I snapped a photo of my daughter and sent it. When the reply came back confirmed, the weight crushing my chest finally eased.