Letting go of something you love is too hard. Donโt know if Iโll ever make another documentary.ย Six hundred and twenty-nine likes, forty-one retweets, eleven comments.
Belโs eyes lit up. Sheโd found it,ย ๏ฌnally, the tweet that @DirectorRamseyLee posted last October. This must be the one.
It was Thursday evening, and she was sitting on her bed, laptop buttressed against her knees, stomach snarling because she hadnโt eaten enough at dinner.
She clicked onto the comments and scrolled down.ย Donโt give up!
I loved Snow Dogโit made me cry!
And then:
Have you heard of the Rachel Price case? If youโre ready for your next story, it would make a great documentary. Canโt believe it hasnโt been done already.
By a Lucas Ayer, no pro๏ฌle photo. Bel clicked the name. He had zero followers and followed no one. That tweet had been hisย ๏ฌrst and last, joining Twitter in October 2023, like heโd made the account just to do that. Bel narrowed her eyes, studying Lucasโs empty gray face,ย ๏ฌnding nothing.
The laptop juddered in her hands, rattling as an awful soundย ๏ฌlled the house, grating and high-pitched, cutting out suddenly.
Someone was drilling. Upstairs. And it wasnโt Dad, because the TV was on down below.
The drilling started up again.
Bel let her laptop slide o๏ฌย her lap, got up to follow the noise. She opened her door, hesitated in the hallway.
Rachel was on her knees outside the spare room door, holding the drill up to the latch hole in the frame, carving out the edges. There was an open box on theย ๏ฌoor beside her, a new silver door handle poking out.ย Door lever handle: locks both ways,ย said the box.
Rachel stopped the drill and blew at the sawdust.ย โWhat are you doing?โย Bel asked.
Rachelย ๏ฌinched, herย ๏ฌnger pulling the trigger, the drill growling once in response.
โYou scared me, AnnaโBel, sorry. Bel.โย But Rachel had scared her more times.
โPutting a lock on your door?โย Bel trailed forward, nudging the box with her toe.
โYeah.โย Rachel pulled out the new handle, showing her. There was a switch to turn for the inside, a keyed lock for the outside of the door.ย โI havenโt been sleeping very well,โย she said, rubbing her eyes on her sleeve.ย โI guess because I know heโs still out there, could be anywhere. The man who took me. Thought it would help me sleep, knowing I can lock myself in. Worth a try.โ
Bel nodded, like that made sense, avoiding Rachelโs eyes.ย โThis one locks on the outside too.โย She pointed down at the box.ย โWith a key.โ
โOh, so it does,โย Rachel said, like she hadnโt noticed until now, returning her attention to the drill, avoiding Belโs eyes too. She changed the setting and started it up again, removing the screws from the existing door handle, making the house shake again.
Rachelย hadย noticed it was a double-sided lock, though, hadnโt she? That was the reason she bought it. It wasnโt about being able to sleep. It was
about being able to lock the room when she wasnโt here, keep intruders out. She must know Bel had been in her room yesterday, that sheโd taken back her pink baby sock.
Did Rachel now know that Bel knew she was lying? Or at least that she suspected it? Bel didnโt want to hang around toย ๏ฌnd out. She backtracked to the stairs and hurried down.
Dad was in his chair, beer in one hand as he watched baseball reruns, the volume on high.
Bel paused at the back of his chair, wanting to be close to him without him knowing, pretend it was just the two of them again, without the shifts and distances Rachel had created.
โYou got back late today,โย she said.ย โMissed dinner.โย He took a sip.
โWork was busy.โย His eyes on the TV.ย โAnd yesterday?โ
Bel leaned over and gave him a hug, arms around his warm neck, face squished against the back of his head. Sheโd have to let go soon, before he asked what was wrong, but she didnโt want to. He was avoiding the house, working later and later every day. Soon he might just stop coming home at all. Bel knew why. They all knew why, and she wouldnโt let that happen.
โWorkย isย busy,โย he said.ย โI canโt help it.โ
No, he couldnโt. But Bel could. Dad didnโt need to be the one who worried, for once. Bel could do the worrying, theย ๏ฌxing, the planning. Rachel had only been backย ๏ฌve days and she was pushing him away, Bel could sense it. Dad said he believed Rachelโs story, every word. But there was no doubt that her return had changed something for him.
Part of Bel had known, the instant she saw his face when he realized Rachel was back, that it would come down to a choice. One or the other. Now she knew they couldnโt exist in this house together and for Bel, it wasnโt a choice at all. That was why she had toย ๏ฌght:ย ๏ฌnd proof that Rachel Price was a liar, get rid of her before she got rid of Dad.
โOK, kiddo?โย Charlie said, tapping her arm until she let go.ย โWhatโs she doing?โ
He meant Rachel.
โFitting a lock on the spare room door.โ
โOK,โย he said. Was that all? So calm, like he didnโt even know he was part of this war.
Bel sat on the sofa, the side closest to him.
โSomeone left the window open down here last night,โย he said.ย โI donโt know if it was you or her.โ
Bel didnโt either.ย โSorry,โย she said, just in case.ย โHey, Dad.โ โHey, Bel.โย He saluted his beer at her.
โHave you got any of the stu๏ฌย from when I was a baby? Toys or clothes?
Are they up in the attic?โ
โNo.โย His eyes tracked the baseball.ย โDonโt have anything like that. Gave it all to Goodwill, or to Je๏ฌย and Sherry for Carter. Why?โ
โOh, nothing. Film crew were asking if we had any,โย she lied easily, even though it was Dad and she didnโt do that to him.
He grunted, taking another swig of his beer.
The drill started up again, shuddering and growling. Building to a high- pitched rattle of a scream.
Dad grabbed the remote, turned the volume up.
And again, both getting louder, one in each of Belโs ears, commentators bellowing over the screech of the drill.
Up and up, pushing and pushing.
