The Open Door

Warren opens the bathroom door, the cage locked between his thighs, the key a hard line against his hip. Claire stands in the bedroom, her arms crossed, her eyes scanning him for something she can't name. He crosses to the nightstand, his hand brushing the wig he left there, and she asks why he's been so jumpy all morning. His phone buzzes on the counter, David's name lighting the screen, and Claire's gaze flicks to it—one heartbeat from seeing everything.