figure in the doorway, a hand gesturing madly for her to hurry. But sitting on the dirt floor in a pitch-black cellar for days on end had rendered urgency a foreign notion. “Hurry!” The girl was on the fourth step when she heard the front door to the estate open loudly. Both of them froze. “No,” the figure at the top of the stairs whimpered. “Daddy’s home…” The girl’s grip on the rat’s tail tightened. ***
