Roslindale, Mass 
June 15, 1976 
6:30 p.m.

Chrissy pushed the window open, crawled onto the fire escape, then closed it behind her. She leaned against the wall and studied the book she’d gotten at the library.

The cover had faded with age. The corners, tattered and taped, showed signs of wear. But the ballerina on the cover looked like she was flying. Someday that would be her. Someday she would be the one to fly.

Ballet Shoes.

She’d only just started it, but she already liked the youngest sister. Posy moved without fear, almost as if her feet knew where to go even when she didn’t.

Chrissy opened the book to chapter 2 and smoothed out the pages. She was halfway down the page when she heard it.

The sound.

The car.

Her hands shook, and her stomach began to churn. She glanced up, and from her vantage point could see when it turned the corner.

Chrissy was already on her way inside when her mother ran into the room.

“Hurry, honey,” she whispered, already moving the boxes out of the way. “Go on, now.”

“But, but mom. You too.”

“Not this time, honey. Billy’s here. I’ll be fine. Go on now.”

Chrissy glanced at her mom again, but her expression said her mind was made up.

“Go now. I’ll put the boxes back.”

“Okay,” Chrissy whispered in a shaky voice.

“Don’t forget, honey. No matter what you hear, don’t come out for anyone other than me or Billy.”

“Okay.”

Chrissy pressed into the corner of the hiding place Billy fashioned for her and her mother. He’d left pillows, a blanket, snacks, and a flashlight for them. But most importantly, there was a phone. One very few knew about. One she could use if she needed it.

“I love you Chrissy. Be brave.”

“Okay, momma.”

“I’ll see you real soon.”

When her mother slid the door shut, the darkness closed around Chrissy. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes, and for a minute she wasn’t sure if she could breathe.

“Close your eyes,” Billy’s words played in her head. “Take a deep breath and let it out slowly.”

“But what if there’s no air?”

“Don’t worry, Chrissy. There’s plenty of air for you.”

Her conversation with Billy, her mother’s boyfriend, came back around.

It hadn’t been that long ago when she’d come home from school and found him working in her mother’s closet. He’d created a space for them to hide. If you didn’t know where to look, it was invisible, especially with the boxes stacked in front of it.

But when he’d told her about it, her mother had been there. When he’d talked about it, she’d understood it was a place to hide for her … and her mother. Instead, her mother shoved her inside—alone.

Chrissy searched for the flashlight and turned it on. She pushed aside the blanket, wanting to find her book, but realized she’d forgotten it. Could she go after it?

Before she could open the panel, she heard a door slam. The sound sent a chill up her spine and caused her heart to race.

“Loraine,” her father barked. “Stop hiding behind that pussy you call a boyfriend. Where’s Chrissy? I told you I wanted to see her.”

Chrissy’s breath caught, and a memory of her mother’s expression after hanging up the phone one day floated by. After that, she’d heard her mother and Billy whispering. But they’d never been loud enough for her to hear what they were saying. It was then, the safe place came to be.

“I told you to stay away, Mitch. Get out of here.”

“Give me Chrissy.”

“Now Mitch,” Billy’s voice came across calmly. “Let’s talk about this like adults.”

The next thing she heard were five loud shots, and her mother scream. Chrissy covered her ears and pressed closer to the wall.

She knew the sound. Had even heard it once or twice when she’d been on the fire escape. Knew from the sound of her mother’s crying it meant trouble.

Carefully, she moved around, feeling for the phone. When she knocked something off the shelf, the noise reverberated loudly in the small space.

Don’t let him find me. Don’t let him find me. were on repeat inside her head.

Finally, she found the phone, tugged it closer, and with her heart in her throat, lifted the receiver. Using touch, she found the zero. It was the last hole, just below the silver piece.

With a shaking finger, Chrissy slid the dial around as far as possible, then let it go. She held the phone with both hands and waited as it returned to rest. It didn’t ring—just a pause and a click.

“Operator. What number, please?”

Chrissy opened her mouth, but nothing came out except for a small whimper.

“Hello, operator,” came across the line. “How can I help?”

“Po-police,” Chrissy whispered. “Please. It’s—bad.”

“Just one minute.”

While she waited, Chrissy tuned into what was happening in the other room. Her mother’s screams had her pressing the phone tighter against her ear.

“Hello,” came through the line. “How can I help you?”

“Is this the police?” Chrissy whispered.

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Chrissy.”

“Hi, Chrissy. My name’s Dan. How old are you?”

“I’m seven.”

She heard several sounds at once on the other end of the phone, before Dan returned.

“Where’s your mother, Chrissy?”

“She’s crying.”

“Do you know why she’s crying?”

“I, I think Mitch is hurting her.”

“Mitch? Who’s that?”

“My dad,” Chrissy cried. “I think he hurt Billy.”

“Okay, honey,” Dan went on. “Let me get you some help. Can you tell me your address?”

“My address?”

“Yes. Where do you live?”

Chrissy froze. Her mother had tried to teach her their address several times. But every time she’d learned it, they’d moved again.

“I, I don’t know the number.”

“That’s okay. There are other ways to find you,” Dan went on. “Do you know the street?”

“Beech Street.”

“And the building color?”

“Yellow,” Chrissy murmured. “But not bright, more dirty.”

“Dirty yellow?”

“Yes. Like old mustard.”

“Okay,” Dan replied. “When you’re outside, what do you see? Are there any parks, signs, or stores you can tell me?”

“There’s a park by the library,” she exclaimed. “I like to sit there by the flower beds.”

She could hear Dan say something in the background, then he asked, “Does Adams Park sound familiar?”

Chrissy shrugged, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “Maybe.”

“Okay, honey. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“Like what?”

“A sign. A smell. How big your building is.”

“I remember seeing a sign when I’m in the car.”

“That’s good, honey. Is it big or small?”

“It’s big and red,” she whispered.

“Is there a picture on it?”

“A soda.” Chrissy grinned. “I like that soda, but I don’t get to drink it very often.”

“That’s very good.” He paused. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“It always smells in the hallway outside my house.”

“Smells?”

“It smells like food. Mrs. Duffy always shares with us.”

“Mrs. Duffy?”

“She lives across the hall.”

“That’s good, honey. Can you do one more thing Chrissy, for me?”

“What?”

“What can you hear outside your hiding place?”

Chrissy slowly lowered the phone and listened. For a heartbeat, she heard nothing—just silence. That only lasted a second until her father started screaming her name.

“He’s coming,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”

“Someone’s on the way,” Dan assured her. “Can you tell me when you hear the police sirens?”

“I’ll try.”

She heard a crash, and then her dad’s voice nearby.

“I’m scared.”

“Just stay with me,” Dan murmured. “Listen for the sirens.”

“I’ll try.”

“I know you’re here, Chrissy,” her dad yelled, sounding like he was right outside the door. “Come on out, honey. You can tell me about your new book.”

“He has my book,” Chrissy whimpered. “I have to go.”

“No, Chrissy. Stay with me.”

“But my book …” Her voice cracked. “Momma always said I could fly someday.”

Chrissy pressed on the panel, but just before she slid it open, she heard the police sirens.

“I hear them,” she whispered. 
“Good girl. Now, listen …”

Stay tuned for more information on Love’s Promises Book 2