The Cellar Door
The gate creaked as it opened.
Sunny bolted to the back, nose pressed to the ground. He stopped at a half-sunken cellar door, pawing and wagging his tail furiously.
Kelly crouched, pressing her ear to the wood. Her expression shifted in an instant.
“Do you hear that?
… It’s crying.”
Everyone froze. Rodriguez quickly called for backup while Eleanor pressed a hand to her chest.
With a crowbar, the officers forced the cellar open. Damp air poured out, and beneath it came the sound of a child’s sobs.
Flashlights swept the darkness—until they landed on a little girl, no more than six, curled up on an old blanket.
Tear-streaked and trembling, she lifted her face with a mix of fear and fragile hope.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Parker whispered, kneeling beside her. “We’re here to help. You’re safe now.”
