Byron didn't hesitate, didn't flinch.
"No.
It's been quiet the past few hours.
Please don't ruin it."
"Few hours?"
Janet turned her head, too fast, to look at the clock on the wall.
She had to cover her mouth and swallow to keep the bile down.
It was past four in the afternoon.
Something was very wrong.
"Ed should be home."
Her breath hitched in her chest.
"What…what did you do to him?"
"Nothing."
A sadistic smile crossed his face.
He gestured to the children.
"Tell her, guys.
Oh, sorry, I forgot, you can't talk.
Just nod real vigorously.
Take my word for it.
He hasn't been home."
"You're…lying."
"Actually, the only one here today that's been lying is you, Janet.
You keep saying you'll behave, and you don't.
That's a lie."
"Please, just…let Mark go to the bathroom.
Don't make him sit there like that."
"No.
Why don't you just lay back down and rest that head of yours?
It infuriated me, watching you sleep.
But I weighed that against the wonderful silence, and the silence won."
Janet's brow furrowed.
"I wasn't asleep, you son of a bitch.
You hit me—"
A flash of movement caught Janet's attention from the living room window.
She turned to look, and Byron followed her gaze.
Mary, Mark's mother, stood on her front porch.
She scanned the neighborhood, holding a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun.
Taking slow steps down the front walk, she looked up and down the street, and along the side of her house.
"Ah, finally," Byron said.
"The day is picking up."
"She's looking for Mark," Janet said.
Byron rolled his eyes.
"So observant."
He rose to his feet.
"She'll look through the backyards next.
Then she'll come over here.
Will she knock on the back door or the front?"
"The front."
"The truth," he said.
"Was that so hard?"
He calmly walked toward the children.
Circling behind them, he leaned Mark's chair back and dragged him across the carpet.
Sarah shook in her chair and bounced up and down.
"Everyone be quiet, or I'll kill every single one of you."
His voice was relaxed, calm, which made his threats all the more frightening.
Sarah stopped bouncing.
"Janet, make yourself presentable.
You look like you've been sleeping on a carpet for half a day.
Mary will knock on the door."
He gestured to Mark as he set the chair upright in the corner, out of view from outside the front door.
"She'll ask if you've seen old piss-stain, here.
Simply say you haven't, or he's dead, or whatever lie you want to come up with.
Then she'll say your husband called her, and said he'd have to work late.
So late, actually, that you shouldn't wait up for him."
"What?" Janet said.
"What are you talking—?"
"Just send her on her way."
Byron dragged Sarah and Elizabeth together, and positioned them next to Mark.
"I'll be standing right here with the kiddies.
Do I need to tell you what will happen if you try to send a message or call for help?"
Janet regarded her daughters.
They had been through Hell.
"No.
I won't try anything."
Byron leaned down in between Sarah and Elizabeth.
"You hear that, girls?
Your mom is finally getting it together.
Now, you have to, also.
Don't make any noise."
He looked up at Janet.
"It's almost show-time.
You'd better get ready."
There was a knock at the front door.
Janet took a deep breath.
"Just one second!"
Stopping in front of the mirror hanging on the wall, she ran a hand through her hair.
Her eyes were red from sobbing, her cheeks puffy.
She adjusted her blouse, out of place from being unconscious on the floor.
Another knock.
"I'm coming!"
Janet pulled open the front door, doing her best to flash her brightest smile.
Mary stood on the porch and returned the greeting.
Mark bore a strong resemblance to his mother.
They both had the same eyes, and dimples in their cheeks.
Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a look she managed nicely.
Her husband was a long distance truck driver, and she'd spent most of her time alone with Mark.
Janet hadn't gotten to know her as well as she would have liked.
"Hey, Janet," Mary said.
She noticed Janet's slightly unkempt look.
"Are you okay?"
Janet waved away her concern.
"Oh yeah.
Just a little sick.
And my allergies aren't helping any."
Mary laughed.
"I know exactly what you mean.
Listen, have you seen Mark anywhere?
I saw Sarah running with him in the backyard earlier."
"I haven't seen him.
Sarah told me he said something about playing with the boys at the end of the block."
"Ah, the Rhodes twins?"
Mary scowled and turned to look down the street.
"I told him I didn't want him spending time with them.
I've got somewhere to be in ten minutes.
He'll make me so late."
She faced Marie, hope in her eyes.
"I know it's a lot to ask, but when he comes back this way, can you watch him for me?"
"Of course."
"It's no trouble?"
"Not at all.
Sarah loves playing with him."
"Thank you so much.
Oh!
I almost forgot.
Ed called the house.
He said the phone was busy over here."
Janet sighed.
"Yeah.
Elizabeth was horsing around and tripped over the phone cord.
Pulled it right out of the wall.
One more thing to fix."
"I know that feeling.
Anyway, he wanted me to tell you'd he'd be late tonight."
Janet's mouth opened, but she couldn't form words.
Everything to that point was exactly how she'd thought a conversation with a neighbor looking for her son would go.
Her hand shook as she rested it on the doorway for support.
Byron had been right.
"He's…going to be late?"
"Yeah.
Something about a few emergencies at the garage.
And after that he has to help Chris with something.
He said he wouldn't be home until real late, like three in the morning, and not to wait up for him."
Her knees went weak as she stood in the doorway.
The color left her face.
Leaning back, her head rested against the candlestick mounted on the wall.
Janet couldn't force the idea aside as it struck her, even if she wanted to.
The candlestick was definitely hefty.
"You don't look good at all," Mary said.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine.
Really."
Mary smiled.
"Hey, look at it this way.
It's a night in for you and the girls.
Lady time.
My husband's never home."
Sadness crossed her eyes.
"I guess you get used to it."
"I'm sorry, Mary."
Mary's upbeat personality returned quickly.
"It's okay.
I have to get going.
Thank you for watching Mark.
If I'm late for this appointment, I'll just die."
"It's quite alright.
I'll see you later.
We'll all have to have dinner sometime."
She closed the door.
Janet's mind was swimming as she gripped the candlestick.
Where was Ed?
What was he doing?
Was he really working late?
Was this all some crazy plan by Byron?
For what purpose?
More second thoughts attacked her as she removed the candlestick from the wall.
The last time she grabbed an object, with the intention of using it on Byron, didn't turn out very well.
Her children were bound because of it.
"See?" Byron said.
"Was that so hard?"
He couldn't see her.
A wall to her left separated the front door from the living room, forming a small foyer.
The space was perfect for wiping muddy feet, or hanging coats on the rack sitting against the opposite wall.
It was also perfect for hiding a concealed weapon.
"Okay."
Byron's voice was closer.
He was moving away from the children, toward Janet.
She closed her eyes, praying for strength.
"That's taken care of.
So now, we can finally—"
Byron was just around the corner.
She could almost see him in her mind.
That arrogant, evil smirk.
She gripped the candlestick tighter.
Stepping around the corner, Janet swung as hard as she could.
It was almost a blind swing.
She kept her aim high, where she knew Byron's head would be.
A part of her expected to fail.
Just like the rat poison, and the attack with the drinking glass.
Byron would duck, or he'd block.
He'd make good on the threats to her family, and it would be Janet's fault for failing to protect them.
She was almost surprised when the candlestick found its mark.
The blunt weapon struck him on the temple.
He let out a shocked cry of pain as he slumped against the wall.
Janet swung again, aiming for the side of his head, but Byron had clumsily slouched along the wall just in time.
All she did was leave a hole in the wall, missing his head by mere inches.
But the third strike found its mark as he hit the floor.
She caught him under the eye.
Strikes four through nine were successful as well.
Byron raised his hands to defend himself.
Janet raised the candlestick, over and over, not caring what she hit.
There was crying and shouting.
Janet wasn't sure if the sounds were coming from the children, Byron, or herself.
He stopped moving.
His body was curled into a ball, pressed against the wall.
His arms were resting over his head, still trying to protect himself.
She struck him once more on the back of the neck.
Her attention turned to the children.
She started with Elizabeth.
The duct tape was twisted from the struggling, and there was no way Janet would be able to simply peel the tape away.
Running into the kitchen, her hands trembled as she grabbed a knife from the drawer.
The children cried under their gags, begging to be free.
Janet tried to will herself to calm down as she cut their bonds.
The last thing she wanted was to accidentally cut one of them.
The process was agonizingly slow.
First the hands, then the feet, then move on to the next child.
The quiet in the room turned to hysterics as the children removed their own gags.
Elizabeth threw her arms around her mother's neck as soon as she was able.
"Mommy!" was all she could say, over and over.
"Mommy!
Mommy!"
"I know, baby," Janet said, streams running down her own face.
"Give me a second, okay?
I have to cut this tape."
"Did you kill him?" Sarah asked when she removed her gag.
She jumped down from the chair.
"Mom?
Did you?"
Risking a look over her shoulder, she saw Byron was still where she left him.
He wasn't moving.
She tried the shake the thought from her mind.
"I…think so."
She finished cutting Mark's restraints.
"Come on.
We have to go to the police."
"I want Daddy!" Elizabeth said.
"Yeah.
Me, too.
Come on.
We'll go to Mark's house.
We'll call the police, borrow the car—"
A hand grabbed the back of Janet's sweatpants.
She squealed in surprise as she was pulled down to the floor.
Craning her neck, she looked into the furious eyes of Byron.