“Daddy, help me!” Emily’s tiny fists beat feebly against the tinted window, and her yellow dress was already soaked with sweat. The summer sun turned the luxury car into a furnace. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her lips trembling as she cried out for someone—anyone—to hear her.
Just minutes earlier, her stepmother, Vanessa, had stepped out of her car and, in her stilettos, was pacing the marble driveway. She closed the door with a careless flick of the remote and entered the mansion without a backward glance. To a stranger, it might have seemed like oblivion. But Emily knew the truth—Vanessa had seen her in the backseat, heard her crying, and still she had left.
On the porch, Maria, the maid, was carrying a basket of linens. At first, she thought the soft knocking was her imagination. Then she turned and froze. Emily, her tear-stained face pressed her against the hot glass, her hands flailing desperately. “Emily!” Maria screamed, dropping the basket. She tugged on the door handle, but the car stalled. Panic gripped her heart. “Stay with me, darling. Don’t close your eyes!”
At that moment, the roar of an engine cut through the air. A silver sedan pulled into the driveway. Richard Lawson, Emily’s millionaire father, stepped out in his tailored navy blue suit. He froze at the chaos. Maria screamed, and Emily gasped for air inside the closed car.
“What the hell is going on?” Richard thundered, running forward.
“She’s locked inside! She can’t breathe!” Maria screamed.
Richard’s face went dry as he saw his daughter’s terrified eyes. He pounded on the window. “Emily, Daddy’s here! Wait a minute!” But the car remained locked.
“Where are the keys?” asked Richard.
Maria’s voice broke. She—Vanessa—led them inside. “She’s not coming.”
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