Don't Look Back Read Online Free PDF

next morning I went back to the paint store and picked out a soft green paint. I figured that color would work for a boy or a girl.
    Once home I carried the supplies up to the baby’s room. Since there was no furniture, this would be a perfect time to paint. I put Greta in her crate, but at least she didn’t bark this time. I assumed it was because I was upstairs and she couldn’t see me. I spread out the drop cloth, taped off the ceiling, baseboards, and window frame and set to work.
    After I finished the first coat, I decided to paint the closet. I wanted to take the closet doors off and struggled to get them off the track, but finally removed them and placed them in the hallway. This was the first time I had taken a look inside this closet and immediately noticed something strange. There was a small door in the bottom right corner of the closet wall. It was about four feet high and two feet wide. A small latch hung next to it, but it wasn’t hooked. And I could see light seeping in around the edges of the miniature door.
     

Chapter Seven
     
    There was no handle or knob, but I was able to use my fingers to grip the edge and pull the door open. I knelt down and peered into the space. Light poured in. I had to crouch to get through the opening, but once through I was able to stand. The room was nearly as large as the baby’s room and the light came from a window. As I thought about it, there were two upstairs windows in the front of the house, but only one in the baby’s room. Obviously this was the room that housed the other window.
    A thick layer of dust covered the floor. “I wonder why this room doesn’t have an entrance from the hallway,” I said to the empty room. Did Mary know about this place? Should I ask her? The room was a good size. Was there some way I could put it to use?
    I turned around and looked at the way I had come. I visualized the outside entrance having stacks of boxes against it, making it invisible.
    A panic room. That’s how I could use it. It wouldn’t be like a real panic room - the walls weren’t made of reinforced steel or anything - but it was a hidden room. A place where I could go if I felt threatened.
    A place where I could hide from Trevor.
    And that’s really what it came down to. I wanted a place where I could go if Trevor were to show up.
    The paint job in the baby’s room forgotten, I went downstairs and got the broom and dustpan and brought them back to the secret room. I opened the window to help with the dust I was sure to create, then carefully swept, trying to minimize the dust in the air. I had to get a trash can to dump the dust piles in, but after several passes across the wood floor, all but a thin layer of dust was gone.
    Next, I got the mop and a water-filled bucket and mopped up the remaining dust.
    “That’s much better,” I said.
    The walls looked like they were off-white, but could use a wipe-down. I got fresh water in the bucket, along with a sponge, and proceeded to wipe down the walls. By the time I was done, I was soaked with sweat, but the room couldn’t be any cleaner.
    I wanted to bring something soft to sit or lay on, just in case I needed to actually spend time in there. The doorway was too small to bring in actual furniture, but a medium-size bean bag chair would work.
    My mental list was growing, so I decided I’d better start writing down the things I needed to buy. I put all the cleaning supplies away and then found my notepad and started a list. A knock at the door sent my heart into a gallop and I almost rushed up the stairs to hide in my panic room.
    “I’ve got to calm down,” I murmured.
    Greta had started barking at the knocking. I debated whether to let her out of her crate, but decided not to.
    As I approached the front door, I saw a familiar car in the driveway and felt myself relax.
    “Mary,” I said after I opened the door. “How are you?”
    “I’m doing well. But I wanted to see how you’re settling in.”
    “How