My blood froze. I looked at Leo. He was pale. We could not go down. Whoever it was was blocking our only exit. I grabbed Leo in my arms and we got inside the office closet. My heart was beating so hard I was sure they would hear us.
Through the crack in the closet door, I could see the light of flashlights coming up the stairs. Two men. They were not police. I recognized the voices. They were the same men who had burned the house.
“The boss said to verify if the job was completed,” said one of them, deep voice. “It seems they still have not found bodies.”
“Impossible. The fire was strong enough so that nothing remained. Maybe they already took them to the coroner.”
“Better to make sure. Take a look at the bedrooms.”
I heard footsteps separating. One going toward the master bedroom, another coming in our direction. The office door opened. Leo squeezed my hand so hard it hurt. I bit my lip not to make any sound.
The man entered, the flashlight beam sweeping the room. It stopped at the open safe.
“Hey, Mark, come see this.”
The other one appeared.
“What happened?”
“The safe is open. It was not like this when we left.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. We did not even touch the safe. We just set it on fire and left.”
Tense silence.
“Someone was here,” concluded the one named Mark. “Recently. The dust around it is disturbed. Do you think it was the police?”
“The police do not steal money. And look, there are footprints. Small ones.”
He pointed with the flashlight to the floor.
“Too small to be an adult.”
My stomach sank.
“Child,” said the first man slowly. “Do you think…?”
“I think we have a problem.”
Mark took a cell phone out of his pocket.
“I am going to call the boss. He needs to know.”
I could not allow it. If he called James, if he told him someone had been there, that possibly it was us… But what could I do? I was locked in a closet with my six-year-old son, unarmed, trapped.
It was then that I heard the scream.
It came from outside. A female scream, loud, of terror.
“What the hell was that?”
Mark bolted down the stairs. The other man went after him. I did not waste time. I took Leo in my arms and ran. I went down the stairs so fast I almost tripped. The back door was open. They must have entered through there. We got out. We ran to the wall.
Catherine was there, panting.
“Was it you who screamed?” I asked while helping her jump the wall.
“I needed to get them out of there. Did it work?”
“Yes.” I showed her the backpack. “I took everything.”
We ran to her car parked two blocks away. Only when we were inside, doors locked, engine on, and driving away could I breathe.
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