She turned around. Sophie was locked in Morgan’s bedroom, alone and no doubt terrified.
“What happened?” Gianna stood in the doorway across the hall from the girls’ room.
“We had a break-in.” Morgan rushed for her room. “Could you call the police, and then make sure Ava and Mia are OK?”
Her older daughters were quiet. Hopefully, they hadn’t woken.
Morgan knocked softly on her bedroom door. “Sophie? It’s Mommy. Open the door, sweetie. Everything is all right now. The man is gone.”
Nothing.
Morgan tried the door. Locked. She reached for the top of the door frame and swept her hand along the molding. Her fingers found the thin key she kept there in case one of the kids locked themselves in a room.
As Sophie had done multiple times.
Morgan unlocked the door and opened it slowly. “Sophie? Where are you?”
She crouched to check under the bed and found only her slippers. There was only one other place to hide. She crossed the room to open the closet door. At first, she didn’t see anything. She moved her hanging clothes aside and almost burst into tears.
Sophie was huddled on the floor of the closet.
Morgan squatted down to her level. “It’s OK, sweetie. You can come out.”
She held out her arms, and Sophie leaped into them, sobbing. The child’s pajamas were wet, and she smelled like urine. Morgan stood, lifting her baby in her arms. She grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand and called Lance as she walked back out into the hallway.
He answered, sounding wide-awake and anxious. “What’s wrong?”
“We had an intruder in the house.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
She ended the call, shoving the phone into the pocket of her pajamas.
Gianna was coming out of the girls’ bedroom. She held a finger to her lips. “Unbelievably, they are both still asleep,” she whispered. “I called 911 and Stella.”
“Thank you.” Morgan walked toward her. “Sophie needs dry pajamas.”
Gianna slipped back into the bedroom, emerging a minute later with a clean nightgown and panties. She handed them to Morgan, then headed for the kitchen. “I’ll put on some coffee.”
It was going to be a long night.
Morgan set the shivering little girl down, stripping the wet clothes off her body. She set them aside in case the police wanted them as evidence.
“I’m sorry, Mommy.” Sophie’s voice was thin and small and helpless. “I was going to the baffroom, and I saw him. He grabbed me. I was sca-wed.”
“Of course you were, honey.” Morgan’s heart cracked, visions of her baby confronting an intruder breaking her in pieces. Sophie shivered, and Morgan wanted to rip the intruder to shreds.
And maybe set the shredded bits on fire.
Drawing in a calming breath, she tugged the flannel nightgown over Sophie’s head. “You were very brave. Grandpa chased him away.”
Her children were all right. If she focused on that fact, she’d get through this.
Once dressed, Sophie wrapped all four limbs around Morgan and clung hard. Her three-year-old was surprisingly strong—inside and out.
“It’s all right now,” Morgan soothed, staggering to her feet with the additional weight.
“Morgan!” Gianna’s shout came from the front door.
Heart clutching, Morgan carried Sophie out onto the stoop. Three concrete steps led to the front walkway. Grandpa was sprawled at the bottom.
“Stay calm,” he said in a breathless whisper. “I’m still alive.” But his words were strained, his face was drawn, and one leg was bent at an impossible angle.
Chapter Thirty
“Don’t move, Grandpa.” Morgan used her cell to call for an ambulance. Then she brushed her daughter’s hair from her face. “Sophie, I need you to go inside with Gianna.”
Sophie hugged her harder. For a second, Morgan thought she’d have to peel the frightened child from her body, but Sophie seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. She released Morgan and allowed Gianna to take her from her mother. Gianna carried the child back in the house.
Morgan ran inside and grabbed a blanket from the back of the living room sofa. Back outside, she dropped to her knees beside her grandfather, tucked the blanket around his trembling body, and took his hand.
“Twenty years ago, I would have chased that son of a bitch. Ten years ago, I would have shot him,” Grandpa wheezed, pain creasing his face. “But my hands are so shaky now, I was afraid I’d miss and hit you by accident.”
Morgan held beck her tears. “You still saved us all tonight.”
As always.
“I wish I wasn’t so damned old.” Grandpa’s breaths shortened. “I can’t believe I fell down a couple of steps.”