Chapter 6 - THE MAN AT THE DOOR
I turned the deadbolt.
Eli switched off the lamp closest to the window.
The living room fell into shadow except for the warm light above the kitchen counter.
The dispatcher remained on the phone.
“Officers are on their way,” she said. “Do not open the door.”
The elevator chimed outside our apartment.
Eli and I looked at each other.
Footsteps approached through the hallway.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Familiar.
Grant always walked that way when he believed he controlled the room he was about to enter.
The steps stopped outside our door.
The handle moved once.
Then he knocked.
“Maya?”
His voice was warm and gentle.
The same voice that had calmly discussed my death.
“I forgot my keys, sweetheart.”
Eli’s breathing quickened.
I moved in front of him instinctively.
A bitter expression crossed his face.
Only minutes earlier, I had tried to throw him out.
Now I was attempting to protect him from the man he had already faced alone.
Grant knocked again.
“Maya, open the door.”
The dispatcher told us to remain silent.
Grant’s key entered the lock.
It turned until the deadbolt stopped it.
The handle shook.
“Maya?”
His voice lost its warmth.
“What are you doing?”
I glanced at Eli’s phone.
The recording remained open on the screen.
Grant struck the door with his palm.
“Maya, answer me.”
In the distance, sirens began approaching.
Grant must have heard them.
The hallway became completely silent.
Then his footsteps moved rapidly toward the elevator.
“He’s leaving,” I told the dispatcher.
A second later, heavy footsteps thundered from the stairwell.
Someone shouted for Grant to stop.
May you like
A struggle followed beyond the door, brief and controlled.
Then came the click of handcuffs.
