Chapter 1 - The Bread in My Pocket
The first piece of bread disappeared on a Tuesday.
I was four years old.
At that age, I had already learned something adults rarely admitted.
Grown-ups missed a lot.
Especially things that happened below the kitchen counter.
That morning, Vivian stood with her back to me, pouring coffee into one of the white cups she never let me touch.
My father, Daniel Carter, had already left for work.
I sat at the kitchen island with a piece of buttered toast on my plate.
The second Vivian reached for the sugar, I folded the toast in half and pushed it into the pocket of my blue dress.
I wasn't hungry.
Someone else was.
Three nights earlier, I had been sitting on the kitchen floor coloring a dog purple when I heard a strange sound.
Scratch.
Scratch.
I stopped moving.
The sound came from beneath the cabinets.
At first, I thought it was a mouse.
Then I thought it might be a kitten.
I crawled closer.
"Hello?"
Nothing.
I pressed my cheek against the wall.
That was when I heard crying.
Very quiet crying.
The kind someone makes when they are terrified of being heard.
I sat up.
"Who's there?"
Silence.
Then a tiny voice whispered,
"I'm hungry."
My crayon fell from my hand.
I looked around the kitchen.
Nobody.
I crawled toward a metal ventilation grille near the floor.
Behind the narrow slats was darkness.
"Are you in there?"
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then a little finger appeared between the bars.
I gasped.
The finger vanished.
"Don't go."
No answer.
"I'm Ellie."
Still nothing.
I thought very hard about what adults did when someone was upset.
Then I asked the most useful question I knew.
"Do you want a cracker?"
A pause.
"Yes."
That was how our secret began.
Over the next three days, food started disappearing.
Crackers.
A banana.
Pieces of toast.
A dinner roll.
I carried everything in my pockets.
Whenever Vivian went upstairs, I crawled to the vent.
The girl never showed me her face.
Only her fingers.
Her name was Nora.
She sounded older than me, but not by much.
That Tuesday afternoon, I brought two pieces of bread.
"I'm here," I whispered.
The crying stopped.
I pushed the bread through the grille piece by piece.
A pale hand appeared.
Nora grabbed the food.
She ate so quickly that I became scared.
"Slow down."
"I'm hungry."
"I brought two."
"Thank you."
I smiled.
"How old are you?"
Silence.
"Five?"
Nothing.
"Six?"
A tiny sniff.
I gave up.
"Do you have a mommy?"
Nora stopped eating.
Then she started crying.
I instantly regretted asking.
"Don't cry."
"I'm scared."
I understood being scared.
Thunder scared me.
Bad dreams scared me.
And Vivian sometimes scared me.
Not when Daddy was home.
Never then.
When Daddy was home, Vivian smiled.
She kissed my forehead.
She called me sweetheart.
She laughed when I spilled milk.
When Daddy wasn't home, her voice changed.
It became soft and sharp at the same time.
That voice made my stomach hurt.
I put my fingers against the vent.
After several seconds, Nora's hand appeared.
Her fingers touched mine through the metal.
We stayed that way.
Two little girls.
A wall between us.
Then I heard it.
Click.
Click.
Click.
High heels.
My entire body froze.
Nora's hand disappeared.
I spun around.
Vivian stood in the doorway.
She wasn't looking at me.
She was staring at the vent.
Then the crumbs.
Then the bread still clenched in my hand.
For the first time in my life, I saw real fear on Vivian's face.
Not anger.
Not irritation.
Fear.
She crossed the kitchen quickly.
"Ellie."
I backed against the cabinet.
"What are you doing?"
My lip trembled.
"She was hungry."
Vivian stopped.
Her eyes moved toward the vent.
"How long?"
I didn't understand.
"How long have you been feeding her?"
I started crying.
"I don't know."
"HOW LONG?"
I jumped.
Behind the vent came a tiny whimper.
Vivian heard it.
Her face became white.
That frightened me more than her yelling.
She grabbed my wrist.
"Listen to me."
"You're hurting."
She released me immediately.
Then crouched.
Her smile came back.
Too quickly.
"You misunderstood something."
I shook my head.
"Nora's hungry."
Vivian's eyes narrowed when I said the name.
That was how I knew something was very wrong.
"You talked to her?"
I nodded.
"Did she tell you anything else?"
"She's scared."
Vivian looked at the wall.
Then at me.
"Ellie, there is a sick little girl staying in a room behind there."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
"Because she's sick."
"Why is the door in the wall?"
Vivian's jaw tightened.
"It's a special room."
I looked toward the vent.
"Can she come out?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because she could hurt you."
Behind the wall, Nora whispered,
"That's not true."
Vivian heard her.
Her entire face changed.
She stood.
"Go upstairs."
"I want Nora."
"Now."
"No."
Vivian grabbed my shoulders.
"Ellie, if you tell your father about this, something terrible could happen."
I stopped crying.
"What?"
"He could get in trouble."
That was the one thing she knew would frighten me more than anything.
"Daddy?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because this is his house."
I didn't understand laws.
I didn't understand secrets.
But I understood Daddy.
I loved him more than anything.
Vivian lowered her voice.
"If people find out Nora is here, they might think your father did something wrong."
My chest tightened.
"They'll take Daddy?"
"They could."
I stared at her.
"So you don't tell anyone."
I nodded because I was scared.
Vivian wiped my tears.
"Good girl."
Then she removed the ventilation grille.
Nora screamed.
"Ellie!"
I lunged forward.
Vivian shoved a metal plate over the opening.
"Nora!"
"ELLIE!"
Her voice became muffled.
Then disappeared.
Vivian tightened the screws.
I cried so hard I could barely breathe.
She turned toward me.
"You never heard anything."
I stared at the metal plate.
"I did."
"No."
"I did."
Vivian leaned closer.
"No one will believe a four-year-old who steals food and tells stories about girls inside walls."
My heart pounded.
Then headlights swept across the kitchen windows.
Daddy was home.
Vivian's expression changed immediately.
Her shoulders relaxed.
Her smile returned.
She whispered,
"Remember what happens if you talk."
Seconds later, my father walked inside.
"Where's my peanut?"
I ran toward him.
He lifted me into his arms.
"What happened?"
I looked at Vivian.
She was smiling.
Daddy touched my wet cheek.
"Why are you crying?"
Vivian answered before I could.
"She got upset because I caught her hiding food."
Daddy looked at me.
"Is that true?"
I opened my mouth.
Behind Vivian, I saw the silver plate covering the vent.
Somewhere behind it was Nora.
Hungry.
Scared.
Alone.
I wrapped my arms around Daddy's neck.
Then I whispered,
"There's a girl in the wall."
Daddy became still.
Vivian stopped smiling.
And although I was only four, I understood something for the first time.
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Vivian wasn't afraid because she didn't know who Nora was.
She was afraid because she knew exactly who was behind that wall.
