Who Holds the Third Key

Summary

It was the final night of our family vacation.

Dad had slipped out to pick up late-night takeout, and Mom was in the bathroom, the shower running behind steamed glass.

Then came the chime.

A sharp, electronic "chirp" at the door, the unmistakable sound of an authorized keycard sliding home. A strange man stepped inside, clicked the deadbolt behind him, and walked steadily toward the sound of rushing water.

Terrified, I buried myself under the duvet, trembling as I dialed my father’s cell, choking on my own sobs.

"Daddy... please come back. Please hurry."