The Last Thing She Saw Before the Water Ran Cold

The steam from the bathroom fan whirred rhythmically, a low, mechanical drone that usually signaled safety. The tub was filled to the brim with steaming water, the surface dotted with a dozen rubber ducks and a plastic boat, the air thick with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus. Emily had spent the last twenty minutes preparing this sanctuary, hoping to wash away the lingering tension from the previous night. She wanted to remind Sophie that the house was a place of warmth, not fear.

"It's ready, honey," Emily called out, her voice pitched an octave higher than usual, masking the tremor in her throat. "The water is perfect. Come on."

The door to Sophie’s bedroom was slightly ajar. Emily waited, holding her breath, willing the silence to break. Then, the door pushed open.

Sophie stood in the hallway, clutching the edge of the doorframe with a white-knuckled grip. She was wearing her oversized pajamas, but she looked small, her shoulders hunched defensively. She didn't step into the bathroom. Instead, she stood with her arms crossed tightly across her chest, a protective barrier between herself and the room.

Emily felt a spike of confusion. "Sophie? The water's getting cold. Come in."

Sophie shook her head violently, her dark curls bouncing against her neck. She took a step back, her eyes darting toward the closed toilet lid, then back to her mother.

"It's just water, Sophie," Emily said, trying to keep her voice gentle, soothing. She took a tentative step into the bathroom, the tile floor cool against her bare feet. "It's warm. I'll put the ducks in. You love the ducks."

Sophie’s breathing hitched, a ragged, hitched sound that echoed in the small tiled room. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her back harder against the hallway wall. "No," she whispered.

"Sophie, please. Come here." Emily reached out a hand, palm open, a universal gesture of peace.

Sophie flinched as if Emily had slapped her. She scrambled backward, her socked feet slipping slightly on the hardwood, before turning and fleeing back toward her bedroom. "I don't want to! Don't make me!"

Emily stood frozen in the center of the bathroom, the warm water now cooling rapidly. She looked at the empty doorway, then down at the tub. It wasn't a fear of the water itself. It was a fear of the entry.

Emily swallowed hard, forcing herself to move. She knelt by the tub, ignoring the chill, and scooped up one of the rubber ducks. "Sophie? Look, it's Quackers. Come play with Quackers."

From the hallway, Sophie’s voice came back, thin and trembling. "Don't come near me. Don't touch me."