“We’re calling the police,” Tom shouted. “And we’re going to find out what you’re really doing with her behind that closed bedroom door.”
At that moment, I heard Susan’s weak voice from inside.
“Jake…”
I looked at the clock.
8:58 PM.
Two minutes to go.
I closed the front door and walked to Susan’s room.
The small bedside lamp was glowing.
Susan was waiting for me.
I pulled the old wooden chair beside her bed.
The clock turned to 9:00.
She looked at me.
“You have to finish it tonight, Jake.”
My hands began to tremble.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“You’ve been running from it for five years. Enough.”
I sat down.
Outside, her relatives believed I wanted Susan’s house.
The neighbors thought we were having some kind of secret romance.
But none of them could possibly imagine what was really happening inside that room every night, hidden from everyone else.
