Chapter 1 - The Green Paint)
Three days before the knock at the door, Emily Carter noticed green paint on Noah's shoe.
It should not have mattered.
In the Carter house, little things were always getting lost, spilled, broken, or forgotten. Noah was nine years old. He drew constantly. Crayons lived beneath the sofa cushions. Pencil shavings appeared in his pockets. Glue dried on the kitchen table.
But the green paint was different.
Emily noticed it while Noah was sitting on the bottom stair after school.
He was trying to clean the side of his sneaker with a wet paper towel.
"What happened?"
Noah jerked his foot beneath the stair.
"Nothing."
Emily stopped.
Noah had become very good at saying nothing.
Nothing happened.
Nothing hurt.
Nothing scared him.
Nothing made him wake up at two in the morning and walk into Emily's room without speaking.
Nothing caused the purple marks she occasionally saw near his wrists.
Nothing explained why he flinched whenever Rick raised his voice from another room.
Emily crouched in front of him.
"Where did the paint come from?"
Noah stared at the floor.
"I don't know."
"You do know."
"No."
Emily softened her voice.
"I'm not mad."
Noah looked toward the kitchen.
Rick was not home yet.
Laura was upstairs.
The house was quiet.
Finally Noah whispered, "The little room."
Emily frowned.
"What little room?"
Noah pressed his lips together.
Then he suddenly stood and hurried upstairs.
Emily remained beside the stairs.
The little room.
There was no little green room in the house.
At least none that Emily knew about.
She followed Noah upstairs, but he had already closed his bedroom door.
Emily nearly knocked.
Then she heard Rick's truck pulling into the driveway.
Everything inside the house changed when Rick came home.
It always had.
Cabinet doors closed more quietly.
Television volume dropped.
Noah disappeared.
Laura checked the kitchen as if expecting an inspection.
Emily had never understood how four people could live in the same house while one person's arrival changed the oxygen for everyone else.
Rick walked inside carrying a hardware store bag.
"Where's your mother?"
"Upstairs."
Rick looked at Emily.
His gaze always lingered a second too long when he thought she was hiding something.
"You pick Noah up today?"
"He walked with me."
Rick placed the bag on the counter.
A small container of green paint was visible through the plastic.
Emily's stomach tightened.
Rick noticed where she was looking.
"Fence touch up."
"Our fence is white."
The silence that followed lasted only two seconds.
But Emily felt every part of it.
Rick smiled.
"Then I guess I bought the wrong color."
He lifted the bag and walked toward the garage.
That night Emily waited until everyone was asleep.
At eleven thirty, she slipped into Noah's room.
He was still awake.
He was lying beneath his blanket with a flashlight.
"What little room?" she whispered.
Noah's eyes immediately filled with fear.
"I shouldn't have told you."
"Told me what?"
"He'll get mad."
"Rick?"
Noah nodded.
Emily sat beside him.
"Noah, listen to me. Whatever happened, you can tell me."
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he reached beneath his mattress.
He pulled out a folded piece of paper.
It was a drawing.
A green rectangle stood in the center of the page.
Beside it was a tall man.
A smaller figure stood behind the green rectangle.
Emily looked closer.
"What is this?"
Noah pointed to the smaller figure.
"Me."
"And who's the man?"
Noah did not answer.
Emily pointed at the green rectangle.
"Is that the little room?"
He nodded.
"Where is it?"
Noah looked toward his bedroom door.
"Behind the garage."
Emily knew the garage better than anyone.
There was no room behind it.
Only an old storage shed attached to the back wall. Rick kept the door locked. He claimed the roof leaked and the floor was unsafe.
Emily had never questioned it.
Until now.
"What were you doing there?"
Noah's breathing changed.
"Rick took me."
"Why?"
"He wanted me to remember."
"Remember what?"
Noah pointed at the tall man in the drawing.
"He kept asking where Grandpa put the box."
Emily stopped breathing.
Their grandfather had been gone from their lives for eight years.
Laura never spoke about him.
Whenever Emily asked, her mother gave the same answer.
Richard Hale had abandoned them after James Carter died.
James had been Emily and Noah's father.
He had died in a highway accident when Emily was nine and Noah was barely two.
A year later, Rick Dawson had entered their lives.
Within eighteen months, Rick and Laura were married.
Within another year, photographs of James disappeared from the downstairs rooms.
Then photographs of Richard Hale disappeared too.
Emily stared at Noah's drawing.
"You remember Grandpa Richard?"
"No."
"Then why did Rick ask you about him?"
Noah swallowed.
"Because he said I was there."
"Where?"
"The green room."
Emily looked down at the picture again.
Suddenly she noticed something written in one corner.
Noah had printed four numbers in blue crayon.
8146.
"What does that mean?"
Noah shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Did Rick tell you to write it?"
"No."
"Then why did you?"
Noah looked frightened.
"Because that's what the man said."
"What man?"
"The man in the recording."
Emily stared at him.
"What recording?"
Noah's eyes moved toward the door.
Then footsteps sounded in the hallway.
The knob began to turn.
Emily shoved the drawing beneath Noah's blanket.
Rick opened the door.
He looked at Emily.
Then at Noah.
Then back at Emily.
"What are you two doing?"
Emily forced herself to smile.
"Helping him with homework."
Rick's eyes dropped to Noah's shoes beside the bed.
The green paint was still there.
His expression changed almost imperceptibly.
"Get some sleep."
Emily stood.
As she passed him, Rick placed a hand on her shoulder.
It looked almost affectionate.
It did not feel that way.
"Emily."
She looked at him.
May you like
Rick smiled.
"Some doors stay locked for a reason."
