Chapter 2 - THE DRILL
The next afternoon, Rachel was at work and Michael had driven to Boston for a meeting with the bank.
Emma was in her room organizing school supplies she did not feel ready to need.
She heard a car in the driveway.
Then another.
She went to the window and saw Linda step out of her sedan.
Behind her came a white van with a local repair company logo on the side.
A handyman climbed out carrying a power drill.
Emma’s hands turned cold.
She backed away from the window.
Maybe it was for something else.
A broken cabinet.
A gutter.
A pipe.
Then she heard footsteps in the hall.
More than one set.
Emma ran to her door and turned the brass knob out of instinct.
Locked.
Good.
Linda’s voice came from the other side.
“Emma.”
No answer.
“Open the door.”
Emma stepped backward.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
The handyman shifted his weight.
Emma could hear it.
And Jason’s voice, amused and lazy, came from farther down the hall.
“You might as well open up, kid.”
Emma’s heart started pounding.
“Grandma?”
Linda did not bother softening her tone.
“Open. The. Door.”
Emma clutched the edge of her desk.
“No.”
A pause.
Then Linda said, “Fine.”
The sound of the drill started like an electric scream.
Emma jumped.
The metal bit struck the lock from outside and began chewing into it.
Wood splintered.
The brass plate jerked.
Emma backed all the way to her bed, staring at the door in disbelief.
“Grandma?! What are you doing?!”
The drill dug harder.
The lock tore loose.
A second later the damaged door burst open.
Linda stormed into the room first, face flushed with righteous anger, the handyman behind her holding the drill like he already regretted being there.
Jason stepped into the doorway grinning.
Linda pointed at the floor.
“Pack your things.”
Emma stared.
“What?”
Linda crossed the room, grabbed Emma’s pink backpack, and threw it into the hallway.
“OUT! This isn’t your room anymore!”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears before she could stop them.
“It is my room!”
“Not anymore.”
Jason entered behind Linda, carrying black trash bags.
“I’m moving in tonight,” he said with a laugh.
He began scooping Emma’s folded clothes from a chair and stuffing them into a bag.
Emma lunged for them.
“Stop!”
Jason held the bag above her reach.
“Relax. I’m not throwing them away.”
Linda seized Emma by the arm.
“Come with me.”
Emma twisted free, crying now.
“No!”
The handyman stood frozen in the doorway, drill hanging uselessly at his side.
Linda pointed toward the hall.
“You can use the guest room. Or the sofa. I don’t care. Jason needs this room.”
“It’s mine!”
“It is in my house.”
Jason zipped one trash bag and went for another drawer.
Emma tried to pull open her desk, but Linda yanked her back again.
The whole thing felt unreal—like all the adults had agreed to become strangers at the same moment.
Then the front door downstairs slammed open.
Rachel’s voice exploded through the house.
“Emma?!”
Emma jerked toward the sound.
“Mom!”
Rachel reached the top of the stairs running, stopped dead at the scene, then rushed forward and gathered Emma into her arms.
The hallway was full of Emma’s scattered things: her backpack, notebooks, one sneaker, a pencil case, two stuffed animals Linda had knocked from the bed.
Rachel looked at the broken door, the destroyed lock hanging loose, Jason’s trash bags, and the handyman with the drill.
Her face changed in a way Emma had never seen before.
“WHO BROKE INTO HER ROOM?!”
Linda pointed directly at her.
“She doesn’t live here anymore!”
Rachel stared.
“What did you just say?”
“I said this room is no longer hers.”
“You drilled my daughter’s lock apart.”
“She was refusing to cooperate.”
Jason laughed softly under his breath.
Rachel turned on him.
“Put her clothes down.”
“No.”
The one word made the house go silent.
Rachel stepped forward.
“Try me.”
Linda moved between them.
“You have no authority here.”
Rachel looked at her as if deciding which insult best matched the moment.
Before she chose, footsteps sounded from downstairs.
Michael entered the hall.
He took in his daughter crying in Rachel’s arms.
He looked at the broken bedroom door. The destroyed lock on the floor. Jason’s half-packed trash bags. The handyman holding the drill.
Then he walked slowly to the broken lock and picked it up.
Everyone fell silent.
Emma watched him with her breath trapped in her chest.
Michael turned to the handyman.
“Replace the lock.”
Linda and Jason exchanged quick, satisfied smiles.
Michael set the ruined lock on the hall table, reached for Emma’s hand, and then looked directly back at the handyman.
“But give the ONLY key… to my daughter.”
Linda’s smile vanished.
Jason froze.
Emma stared up at her father in shock.
Michael squeezed her hand once.
May you like
Then, so quietly only she could hear, he said:
“Do not let anyone into that room tonight.”
