her. As she struggled to stand, Glen made another useless lunge. His chain pulled tight, sending him momentarily airborne. He crash-landed hard to the ground. But he had distracted Simon, enough for Nina to get back to her feet, pick up the television, all sixty-something pounds of it, and fling it at Simon with the adrenaline-fueled angry cry of a shot-putter. Simon easily sidestepped the projectile. Shards of broken glass from the screen exploded on impact, shooting out in all directions. He surveyed the wreckage and made a tsk-tsk sound, like a disappointed parent.
“Well, that’s a waste,” he said, as if it puzzled him that Nina would destroy a perfectly good television. “But I’m thinking in a few minutes nobody will be needing it.”
His threat went unacknowledged, but Nina understood if things didn’t go his way, they would die—perhaps they would all die. She was panting from exertion and terror, standing behind the stairs between Simon, who blocked her only way out, and Glen, trapped in his room.
“Your answer to my question will decide what happens to the children,” Simon told her. “I want you to know that. So, Nina, now it’s the moment of truth for us. I love you. Do you love me, too?”
Simon lowered his weapon. His arms hung at his sides. There was nothing crazed about him. He was calm as could be. He looked to Nina like a teacher standing at the front of his classroom, hoping someone would give the right answer. That someone was her. Nina understood that any other words would bring her a bullet.
“Yes, I—I love you, Simon.” Knowing what he wanted to hear, of course that’s how she’d answer, but why on earth would he believe her?
Her only hope was that desire and obsession would occlude his thinking. Simon closed his eyes and lifted his head to the ceiling as if basking in some hidden glow. “Say it again,” he said, his eyes still closed.
A flash of movement drew Nina’s attention to the space behind him. To her shock and relief, she saw Detective Eric Wheeler quietly descending the slatted basement stairs. She could see him clearly in the open space between each step.
“I love you, Simon,” Nina said, more loudly this time and with feeling, while Wheeler crept panther-like down into the basement. He had his gun drawn as he moved cautiously from stair to stair, motioning with his hand for Nina to keep talking, keep Simon distracted.
“I love you,” Nina said again, her heart racing in terror. “We’ll make it work. Don’t worry about anything, Simon. It’ll be the two of us. I’ll be your second chance with Allison. Just the way you want.”
With that, Simon opened his eyes. He looked hopeful, relieved, somehow at peace. Nina’s body quaked as a faint smile came to his lips.
“Thank you,” he said. “You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”
Wheeler came into full view, a stair creaking under his weight as Simon sprang out from behind the staircase. Whirling around to face him, Simon fired three shots—pop, pop, pop—before Wheeler fired one. His bullet sank harmlessly into a concrete wall; all three of Simon’s sank into flesh. Wheeler tumbled down the stairs, spilling onto the concrete floor, spreading blood everywhere.
Simon went to him. Wheeler, on his back at the bottom of the stairs, gazed blankly at the ceiling. Pulling the gun from Wheeler’s weakened grasp, Simon tucked it into the waistband of his khakis. He looked down at the detective as though he were assessing something too bizarre to comprehend.
“Detective,” he said sorrowfully, “why on earth are you here?”
Nina watched the erratic rise and fall of Wheeler’s chest. “Connor.… worried … called,” he managed to wheeze.
Simon sounded surprised. “Why would he be worried?”
Nina swallowed a gasp. She’d forgotten about the camera in the woods. It was still taking pictures in the daylight. Connor must have been checking for signs of Daisy and maybe saw a picture of Nina entering the house. He would have at least noticed her car parked in the driveway. There must have been another picture of Simon’s arrival, and Connor would have known she was still inside. That’s why he had called her. And when she didn’t answer, he called the police.
Good boy. Good boy, she thought.
Nina moved out from behind the stairs to take a tentative step toward them. Trying to sneak up on Simon while he had his back to her was like playing the children’s game, red light, green light.
Simon stood to the