Page 12 of Perfect Liar

“Lissie, are you here?”

I called out to her again and again, but she didn’t answer.

There was nothing, no sound at all.

After searching beneath the bed and in her closet, I ran to Isabel’s room. But my niece wasn’t there either. And my room was just as empty.

A sob pushed upward into the back of my throat. I swallowed it.

Five. F— No, no, no. Don’t count. Find her.

Gran’s room, the last bedroom.

I ran down the hall and banged the door open.

A slight thump hit the wall.

I froze.

Another soft thump against the far bedroom wall.

I sprinted across the room and burst into the closet.

Lissie screamed.

I pushed away the clothing and the heavy coats hanging in front of the opening to the secret room at the back of our grandmother’s closet.

Inside, Lissie crouched in the corner, covering her head with her hands.

She’d hidden in the place where Isabel and I had played as children. The little secret room where we hosted tea parties with our dolls, where we giggled about boys, where we swore the ghosts of our dead parents visited us.

“Lissie, sweetheart, thank God,” I whispered.

Kneeling in front of her, I peeled her hands away from her face, so she could see me. She lunged at me like a wild animal, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

We were in danger. We had to get out of the house. But I couldn’t bring myself to let her go…I could only hold on to the one person I had left.

Isabel’s words screamed inside my head.

I squeezed Lissie harder.

My sister had been clear that I should find her daughter and leave.

While peeling Lissie’s arms away from my neck, I listened for sounds anomalous to our old house. Soft whistling from the air ducts. A dog barking in the distance.

“I need to call for help, Lissie, then we’re going to leave. But I need you to stay right here while I get my phone. Understand? You wait here for me. I promise you I’m not leaving this house without you.”

I wanted her to stay put…I didn’t want her to see her mother’s lifeless body. I didn’t want that to be the last image of Isabel she had burned into her memory forever.

After hugging Lissie again, I left the secret room, still inside the closet, and dragged my fingers along the door casing, searching for the key to Gran’s storage trunk. I rummaged through the old trunk for the metal box that I never imagined I might need someday.

Secured inside the metal box was a pretty .25 caliber automatic pistol, a gift to my mother from my father…once upon a time. Gran had said they named her Pearl. The grip was made with mother of pearl and the silver barrel was embellished with floral engraving.

Gran had tried to give it to me once, but I refused it.

Isabel would have taken it, but she’d had her own guns.

“Why can’t you listen for once, Ellie? Just take the fucking gun. I know it’s not much, but after you learn the basics, we’ll get you something more useful,” she had said.