by Matthew C. Dampier
‘So you have a handle on it?’
‘She won’t be dropped. You have my word.’
‘I’ll be here until tomorrow morning. You remember how to make a bottle, right?’
When she hung up, I took a bag of breast milk from the fridge and ran it under hot water. I filled a bottle and put it outside the hole in the hope that she would come to her senses for a nice hot meal. I laid the bait and prepared for a stakeout, dimming the lights and moving my chair back to where she wouldn’t be able to see it. I drank quietly and cracked each new can under a towel to muffle any noise that might startle her back into the walls.
About the Author
Matthew C. Dampier lives in Kansas City, Missouri where both he and his wife teach English. They are parents to a small and mischievous child who they often find in places she’s not allowed.