My husband had just left on a business trip when my six-year-old daughter whispered, ‘Mommy… we have to run. Now.’ I asked her, ‘What? Why?’ She was trembling as she said, ‘There’s no time. We have to leave the house right now.’ I grabbed our bags and reached for the door… and that’s when it happened.
My husband had barely disappeared down the street for what he casually described as a routine business trip when my six year old daughter stepped into the kitchen, her small face drained of color, and whispered words that instantly shattered the fragile illusion of an ordinary morning.
“Mommy, we have to leave right now, because something very bad is going to happen.”
The tone of her voice did not resemble playful imagination or childish exaggeration, since it carried a tremor of urgency so sharp and unfamiliar that my hands froze midair above the sink, water still running across the porcelain while my heartbeat accelerated for reasons my mind had not yet fully grasped.
