He took a slow step toward us.

The silence in the house was absolute now, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

My father reached the top landing and stopped a few feet away from us.

His hands were empty, his phone now slipped into his pocket.

He looked at my sister, whose eyes were still wide with fear and confusion.

He looked at me, seeing the anger and the hurt that I had carried for months.

He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly.

Suddenly, the silent security monitor on the wall behind us flickered.

A small red light began to flash on the control panel near the study door.

Ramiro’s head snapped toward the sound.

He reached for his earpiece, his brow furrowing as he listened to a voice on the other end.

My father stopped, his eyes turning toward Ramiro.

“What is it, Ramiro?” my father asked.

Ramiro did not answer immediately.

He pressed the earpiece closer to his ear, his face growing pale.

“Sir,” Ramiro said, his voice dropping.

“The gate sensors.”