The woman did not look at her.
She pushed them inside, shut the door, and left them there—alone in the dark, the space barely large enough to breathe.
Inside, it was cold and pitch black. The baby began to cry, frightened by the unfamiliar smells and the sudden silence. The girl pressed her forehead to the wooden wall, fighting back her own tears as she rocked him gently.
“Don’t cry,” she whispered. “Daddy will be home soon.”
Time moved slowly. The sky darkened. The house lights came on one by one.
Then, finally, the doorbell rang.
Seeing her husband on the security camera, the wife’s face changed instantly. Panic flashed through her eyes. She rushed toward the yard, threw open the doghouse door, and hissed angrily for the girl to stay quiet and hide inside so her father wouldn’t notice.
Certain she had fixed the problem, she greeted her husband with a smile and walked beside him toward the house.
But as they passed the yard, the millionaire stopped.
Something was wrong.
The doghouse door was ajar.
A faint sound came from inside.
