Chapter 2 - Echoes Through the Receiver
The metallic crash from inside the penthouse sent a jolt of pure terror straight down Leo’s spine. He froze, the phone pressed hard against his ear, while Margaret’s voice frantically demanded answers from the other end of the line.
"Leo! What was that sound? Who is in the house with you?" Margaret shouted, her maternal instincts flaring into high gear across the miles.
"I-I don't know, Grandma!" Leo stammered, his small body trembling violently as the autumn wind whipped through the open balcony railing. "Clara was right there, but then... something broke. It sounded really heavy."
Inside the living room, absolute silence fell. The warm glow of the apartment lamps filtered faintly through the thick velvet curtains, casting eerie shadows onto the balcony floor where the sticky puddle of orange juice remained. Leo pressed his ear against the glass, straining to hear any movement, but nothing stirred. The sudden quiet felt heavier and more threatening than the crash itself.
"Leo, listen to me very carefully," Margaret instructed, her tone shifting into a sharp, commanding urgency that brooked no argument. "Do you have the spare key hidden behind the planter box like your grandfather taught you?"
"No," Leo whispered, tears freezing on his cheeks. "Clara moved the plants yesterday. She said they looked messy."
"Damn it," Margaret muttered under her breath, a rare slip of profanity revealing the depth of her panic. "I am calling the security desk right now, and then I am getting in my car. Do not hang up this phone, Leo. Keep talking to me. Stay right by that door."
"Grandma, it's so cold out here," Leo whimpered, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as he curled into a tight ball against the aluminum frame. "My feet hurt."
"Keep moving your toes, sweetheart. Just a little longer."
Suddenly, the heavy velvet curtain jerked violently from the inside. Leo gasped, pulling away from the glass. The fabric parted an inch, revealing a sliver of the brightly lit living room. Through the narrow gap, Leo saw a pair of expensive high heels lying discarded on the floor near the sofa. But it was not Clara’s sparkly gown that caught his horrified gaze. A pair of heavy, mud-caked men's work boots stood right beside the kitchen island—boots that definitely did not belong to his father.
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"Grandma..." Leo choked out, his voice barely a breath. "There's a man inside."
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