13. Ayla

13

AYLA

S hadow’s whine jolts me awake. My eyes snap open and I sit bolt upright on the couch, my heart racing. The room is dark, shadowy shapes looming around me. Shadow whines again, a high-pitched cry that cuts through the stillness.

Instinct takes over. I swing my legs off the couch and fumble for the lamp. Soft yellow light fills the room as I flick it on. Shadow paces by the door, his nails clicking on the hardwood.

“Okay, girl, I’m coming,” I mumble, my voice thick with sleep. I rub a hand over my face and glance at my phone on the coffee table. 4:12 AM glows on the screen. Way too early to be up, but a dog’s gotta pee when a dog’s gotta pee.

I push to my feet with a groan, my body protesting the movement after being curled on the couch for hours. Shadow’s whines grow more insistent as I pad over to the door. His fluffy black tail wags in anticipation.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses,” I chuckle as I reach for the doorknob. The metal is cool against my palm. I twist it and pull open the door, shivering as the chill pre-dawn air washes over me. Shadow darts out into the darkness like a furry bullet, dragging me with him by the leash wrapped around my wrist.

Before stepping outside, I cast a quick glance over my shoulder at Piper’s playpen nestled in the corner of the living room. The baby girl is fast asleep, her tiny chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. A wave of affection surges through me as I watch her for a moment, marveling at the innocence and peace etched on her delicate features.

Shadow tugs impatiently at the leash, pulling me from my reverie. “Okay, okay, let’s go,” I whisper, careful not to wake Piper. We step out into the yard, the door clicking softly behind us.

The inky black sky stretches overhead, stars twinkling like scattered diamonds. The crisp, early morning air nips at my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. I wrap my free arm around myself, wishing I’d grabbed a jacket. Shadow seems unfazed by the chill, his nose pressed to the ground as he sniffs out the perfect spot.

In the stillness of the night, the world feels different—tranquil and undisturbed. The usual daytime bustle is replaced by a soothing quietude, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. It’s a moment of calm, a brief respite before the chaos of another day unfolds.

I inhale deeply, the cool air filling my lungs and clearing my mind.

Shadow’s whine breaks through my thoughts, and I realize he’s finished her business. “Good boy,” I murmur, reaching down to pat his head.

As we approach the door, I reach for the handle, eager to escape the chill that’s seeped into my bones. But when I turn the knob, it doesn’t budge. Confused, I try again, jiggling it with more force. Still, the door remains stubbornly locked.

“What the...” I mutter under my breath, a cold sweat pearling on the back of my neck. This can’t be happening.

I rattle the handle again, desperation creeping into my movements. The door stays firmly shut, mocking me with its immobility. Panic rises in my throat, threatening to choke me.

“No, no, no,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “This can’t be happening.”

Shadow whines softly beside me, sensing my distress. I barely register his presence, too focused on the unyielding door before me. My mind races, trying to comprehend how this could have happened. Did I somehow lock it behind me? Did it auto-lock?

I press my forehead against the cool wood, squeezing my eyes shut as if I can will the door to open through sheer force of mind. But it remains steadfastly closed. Piper. The thought of her alone inside, with Clay and Kip still asleep, sends a fresh wave of panic surging through me. I need to get back to her, to make sure she’s okay.

I pound on the door, my fists slamming against the wood with increasing force. “Clay! Kip!” I shout, my voice ragged with fear. “Wake up! The door’s locked!”

But there’s no response from within, no sign that anyone has heard my desperate pleas. The silence presses in on me, suffocating and heavy.

I step back from the door, my chest heaving as I fight to catch my breath. Think, Ayla, think. There has to be another way in.

I race around the back, searching for something, anything that might offer a solution. And then I see it—a window, slightly ajar.

With renewed determination, I race toward the window, Shadow trailing close behind. The grass is damp beneath my bare feet, the blades tickling my skin as I move. I reach the window and grip the sill, my fingers curling around the weathered wood.

“Please, please be unlocked,” I mutter under my breath, giving the window a gentle push. To my immense relief, it slides open with a soft creak, revealing a narrow gap just wide enough for me to squeeze through.

I hoist myself up, wriggling my upper body through the opening. The window frame digs into my ribs, but I barely notice the discomfort. All I can think about is getting back to Piper, making sure she’s safe.

As I try to maneuver my hips through the gap, I realize with a sinking feeling that I’m stuck. Wedged halfway in, halfway out, I struggle against the unyielding window, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

And then I hear it—Piper’s cry, piercing the early morning stillness. The sound sends a jolt of adrenaline surging through my veins, and I redouble my efforts to free myself.

“Come on, come on,” I grunt, twisting and pushing with all my might. But the window holds fast, refusing to relinquish its grip on me.

Piper’s cries grow louder, more insistent, and I feel hot tears of frustration prickling at the corners of my eyes. I’m so close, and yet so far away. If only I could just…

Suddenly, I feel a firm tap on my back, and a deep, masculine voice cuts through my mounting panic. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”