Chapter 1: The Midnight Call

My phone jolted me awake at 2:03 AM. On the screen, my sister’s name. On the line, nothing but sobs and panic I could barely untangle.

Her words tumbled out, half-choked—"He—he—he’s in here, I can’t—please—" then just ragged breathing. I pressed the phone closer, my mind racing to make sense of the terror spilling through the line.

She finally managed, between gasps, to explain: Her father-in-law had barged in while she was showering, stripped naked, and tried to climb into the shower with her.

In that pitch-black hour, the shrill ring still echoed in my skull. I fumbled for my phone, the blue glow burning my eyes. My sister’s voice was pure panic—just wild, broken sobs between desperate gulps of air. I could barely string her words together, but the fear in her voice hit me like a gut punch. I shot upright in bed, heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else.

01

My brain short-circuited. Panic buzzed so loud in my ears I could barely think.

All I could hear was my own blood roaring, every thought blanked out by horror. My hands shook so hard I nearly dropped the phone.

"Call 911 right now! Lock the bathroom door and don’t come out. I’m on my way!" I ordered, the words tumbling out before I could even register the danger.

My voice sounded steady, but inside I was all chaos. It was just reflex, the part of me that used to walk her home from school taking over. I could hear her fumbling with the lock, breath sharp and ragged in the speaker.

Then came a crash, so loud through the phone I jumped.

My heart leapt into my throat. I pictured it all—the bathroom door splintering, the world upending, a nightmare come alive.

My sister screamed. It sounded like the door had been kicked in.

I flinched at the sound, adrenaline flooding every vein. I pressed the phone so hard my knuckles went white.

"Still on the phone?" The old creep’s voice thundered. "You think you can call the cops?"

His words were thick with menace, echoing through the phone like he was standing right beside me. I could practically smell the reek of whiskey on his breath.

My sister wailed, "You disgusting pig! How could you do this to your own daughter-in-law? Get out! Get out!"

Her voice cracked, fury and terror mixing until it was almost inhuman. The sound made my skin crawl. My fists clenched. I wanted to tear through the line and pull him off her myself.

The chaos on the other end was a swirl of struggling, crying, and things breaking.

I heard thuds, something clattering, her desperate sobs, his guttural curses. It was heartbreak and hell, and I was powerless, stuck a city away.

"You touch her and I swear I’ll tear you apart!" I shouted into the phone, my voice breaking with rage. I wanted him to hear. I needed him to know he wouldn’t get away with it.

All I got back was a cold, dismissive snort.

The silence that followed was worse than the chaos. That nasty little huff said he didn’t care—that he’d done worse before.

Then, the line went dead.

The emptiness on the other end was more terrifying than anything. I stared at my phone, numb and shaking, willing it to light up again.