fable

Chapter 1 - DADDY BAD

Ethan Carter was already inside the washing machine when Emily heard him.

The machine was off.

Unplugged.

Dry.

Silent except for the toddler’s screams.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Emily ran from the living room.

Her two-year-old son pressed both tiny palms against the clear front door.

His blue pajamas were twisted at one shoulder.

His face was wet with tears.

“Oh my God!”

Emily ripped the door open.

Ethan crawled toward her before she could even reach fully inside.

She lifted him against her chest.

“I’ve got you.”

“Mommy!”

He locked both arms around her neck.

His body shook.

Emily turned.

Michael stood in the laundry-room doorway.

Gray shirt.

Dark pants.

Face tight.

Not surprised enough.

Emily looked at Ethan.

Then Michael.

Ethan buried his face against her shoulder.

One tiny finger lifted.

“Daddy bad.”

Something inside Emily broke.

She crossed the room and slapped Michael across the face.

His head jerked sideways.

“How the hell could you—”

“Emily, listen.”

“—do that to your own son?”

Michael raised both hands.

“The machine was unplugged.”

Emily stared.

That answer was worse than denial.

Not:

I didn’t do it.

Not:

He climbed in himself.

The machine was unplugged.

Emily stepped back.

“You put him in there.”

Michael’s jaw tightened.

“He keeps going into this room. He keeps touching things. I needed him to understand it’s dangerous.”

Emily looked at the machine.

Then at her husband.

“You taught him it was dangerous by locking him inside it?”

“I did not lock him in.”

“The door was shut.”

“The latch doesn’t engage without power.”

Emily knew that was partly true for this model.

It did not matter.

A two-year-old did not know the difference.

Then Ethan whispered into her neck:

“Dark.”

Emily looked down.

The drum light had gone off when the door closed.

Michael said:

“It was thirty seconds.”

Emily stared at him.

“How do you know?”

He hesitated.

Then:

“Because I was standing right here.”

Emily looked at the empty doorway behind him.

“If you were standing here, why didn’t you open it before I came?”

May you like

Michael had no answer.

And that was the first lie.

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