FAIRFIELD HOME SECURITY: Audio detected: High-decibel distress.
A cold, jagged spike of intense adrenaline drove itself directly through my chest. I quickly tapped the alert to open the live camera feed from our front door.
Instantly, my entire universe violently narrowed to a tiny six-inch digital rectangle.
My eight-year-old daughter, Chloe, was scrambling frantically backward across the cold concrete of our driveway. She was wearing her favorite fleece pajama set, and her small bare feet were scraping against the unforgiving pavement. Her tiny hands were desperately clawing at a pair of adult hands that were violently tangled in her long brown hair.
The hands belonged to Gertrude, who was my mother-in-law. Gertrude was violently dragging my young daughter across the hard ground without showing a shred of mercy. The older woman’s face was flushed a furious mottled red, and her mouth was twisted into a venomous sneer that I had never seen on a human being before.
“Scream for your daddy right now!” Gertrude hissed loudly as she leaned down until her face was practically pressed into the camera lens. “Let us see if he comes all the way back here to save you this time!”