I had barely hung up when someone hit my front door again.
Not a knock.
A fist.
“Laurel!”
My entire body stiffened.
“Open the door.”
I didn’t answer.
Then the handle moved.
Once.
Twice.
“Laurel, I know they’re in there.”
Wren began crying silently.
I hurried back to the kitchen and pulled both girls away from the windows.
Derek’s voice came again.
“Those kids don’t know what they’re talking about.”
I stood several feet from the door.
“Leave my property.”
“You have no idea what you’re getting involved in.”
“Police are on the way.”
Everything outside went silent.
Then I heard running footsteps.
I looked through the side window just in time to see Derek sprint across my yard toward his house.
Less than five minutes later, sirens filled the street.
Two officers came to me while several others went next door.
A female officer sat on my kitchen floor with Wren and Ivy.
“Do you know where your mommy is?” she asked gently.
Wren pointed toward the neighbor’s house.
“Down.”
The officers disappeared inside.
Those next ten minutes felt longer than the entire morning.
Then the front door of the neighboring house opened.
Derek came out first.
His hands were restrained behind him.
Behind him, an officer helped a woman step onto the porch.
I recognized her immediately.
The woman from the driveway.
Her hair hung around her face. She looked weak and unsteady.
But the moment she saw the twins standing inside my doorway, something changed.
“My babies!”
She pulled away from the officer.
Wren and Ivy ran.
“Mommy!”
The woman dropped to her knees on my lawn as they crashed into her arms.
I turned away for a second because suddenly I was crying too.
Her name was Camille.
