At 2 A.M., My Father Texted: “Grab Your Sister And Run — Don’t Trust Your Mother.” So I Did.

and no way to contact the one who’d warned us.

My phone buzzed. Mom.

Where are you girls? I heard noises upstairs.

The casual tone felt wrong—like she was performing normalcy, the way you perform normalcy when you already know the answer to the question you’re asking.

Another text before I could respond: This isn’t funny. Come downstairs right now or I’m continue reading …