On the floor in front of the door lay Lily’s favorite stuffed rabbit.

Below the image, a message appeared.

*We are waiting inside.*

My legs felt like lead as I bolted from the study.

Richard was right behind me, his heavy footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors.

We ran down the long hallway of the west wing, past the framed portraits and the tall windows.

The air in the house felt suddenly cold.

I gripped my phone tight, my knuckles turning white against the plastic case.

Please let them be okay, I whispered to myself.

We reached the staircase and took the steps two at a time.

At the top of the stairs, the hallway was silent.

I saw the sliver of light from the girls’ bedroom doorway.

The stuffed rabbit, Barnaby, lay on the dark carpet just like in the photo.

Richard caught up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, signaling for me to stay back.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, heavy metal flashlight.

He stepped over the toy and pushed the door open with his foot.