House at the End of the Street by Lily Blake, David Loucka, Jonathan Mostow

trapdoor. He set the tray down as he opened it, then he started down the metal ladder, into the secret room.
    He’d built it himself, reading carpentry manuals for weeks before he started. He’d bought the lumber and dug out the earth, making sure it was deep enough that no one would hear her scream anymore. He walked to the metal door he’d purchased years before, two inches thick. Her shadow passed over the peephole. He reached up, pulling the key down from the top of the doorjamb.
    Ryan took a deep breath, preparing himself as he always did. He kept the tray balanced in his left hand, away from the door, so she wouldn’t knock into it. As he turned the knob he checked the peephole again. Her shadow had disappeared.
    He opened it and her high-pitched wail filled the air. She was hovering in the corner, next to the small table he’d bolted to the floor. It had a baby monitor and a puzzle for her to play with when she got bored. She turned suddenly, darting toward him, her blond hair falling in her face. She reached for him, trying to claw at his eyes, and he tried his best to set the tray down as he pushed her away.
    He restrained her, wrapping her in a bear hug. “Easy, Carrie Anne. Easy,” he whispered. She turned her head, biting into his forearm so hard that she drew blood. He winced, trying not to let go. He couldn’t let her do this. He wouldn’t let her hurt them anymore. He took a few steps back, pressing himself into the mud wall to stabilize them. Then he slowly bent his knees, tightening his grip as they sat on the floor.
    His voice was trembling when he finally spoke. He hated her for this—for what she’d done to his life. She would always be the burden on him, always, until he died. “Why do you do this, Carrie Anne?” he asked. “Don’t I take care of you? Don’t I?”
    When they were both sitting, he reached for the small syringe in his back pocket. He’d been buying the sedatives online for years, ordering them from a website that sent them from somewhere in Mexico. He plunged the needle into her arm and pushed down until all the medicine was injected. It took only a few moments for her body to relax. Her shoulders slumped forward, her head lolling to one side. He brushed the hair away from her face, looking into her bright blue eyes—the same ones he’d known since he was a child.
    “We have a new neighbor. And I like her, Carrie Anne. Elissa and her mom moved into the Reed house, and you are going to leave them alone. Do you understand me?”He squeezed her tighter as he spoke, unable to control the anger in his voice. She had done this to him—it was her fault. Because of her, everything had changed.
    Carrie Anne’s head fell forward, and she whispered something under her breath that sounded like a yes. He helped her into her bed, leaving the dinner on the small table, right beside the monitor. Then he double-checked the room, making sure everything was in its proper place. There was a wooden porch chair settled in another corner, along with a lamp with a single exposed light bulb. He felt for the restraint around her ankle. It was still there. The leather cuff was attached to a wire string, the end of it firmly anchored to the bottom of the bed. When he was certain everything was as it should be, he closed the door behind him and went to turn the dead bolt.
    His heart was still beating fast from the struggle. He noticed soup spattered along the floor, which must’ve spilled when she’d initially hit him. He wiped up the stray vegetables and noodles with a rag he had in his back pocket, making sure he still had the empty syringe. Then he put the key back above the door, tucking it carefully in place, and started up the ladder. He’d been so distracted by the spill, he didn’t realize that he never turned the lock. It was still turned to the right, the knob loose, just waiting for Carrie Anne to open it.

“Y ou were in his house?” Jillian held on to her backpack straps so