Mark stepped off the late flight three days earlier than his business partners had originally planned.
He carried his leather briefcase through the quiet arrival terminal with a warm smile on his face.
His mind was entirely focused on seeing his fourteen year old daughter Emily and his baby son Toby.
Mark had spent the entire week in meetings across the country to secure a big corporate contract.
He had earned a massive performance bonus that would finally pay off his family home mortgage entirely.
His new wife Brenda had promised to look after the kids while he managed the corporate deals.
They had been married for under a year, and Mark truly believed Brenda was a wonderful stepmother.
He checked his gold wristwatch and realized it was barely seven o'clock in the cold autumn evening.
Mark decided not to call ahead because he wanted to surprise his young family with takeaway pizza.
He hailed a yellow cab outside the baggage claim doors and gave the driver his home address.
The taxi ride through the quiet suburbs was peaceful as streetlights flickered against the damp pavement roads.
When the cab pulled up to the large brick driveway, Mark noticed something very strange immediately.
The front porch light was completely turned off, which was unusual for his wife during evening hours.
The heavy velvet living room curtains were drawn tightly shut against the dark suburban street outside.
Mark paid the taxi driver and dragged his heavy luggage up the stone front steps softly.
He reached into his coat pocket and slid his key quietly into the front door brass lock.
The heavy wooden front door opened without making a single sound across the marble floor foyer.
An icy cold chill filled the entrance hall, as if the heating system had been turned off.
Mark set his leather travel bag down on the rug near the front coat rack space.
He suddenly heard a faint crying sound coming from the dark hallway near the back kitchen stairs.
It sounded like little Toby sobbing softly under a heavy thick blanket somewhere downstairs in dark silence.
Mark felt a sharp knot of worry tighten inside his stomach as he took a slow step.
Mark: Hello? Brenda, are you guys still awake upstairs?
No answer came from the top floor master bedroom suite where Brenda usually spent her evening hours.
Instead, a painful scraping noise echoed across the marble floor from the dark laundry room corridor.
Mark turned around quickly and saw a small shadow moving slowly along the hallway wall panels.
A young girl was dragging herself forward using an old wooden crutch under her left arm.
She was holding a tiny bundle wrapped tightly in a thin faded blue blanket against her chest.
Mark recognized the pink coat his daughter Emily had worn to high school just last week.
Mark: Emily! My God, what happened to you?!
The little girl dropped her crutch and gasped loudly when she recognized her father's familiar voice.
Tears swept down her pale face as she struggled to maintain her balance on the floor.
Emily: Dad... you came back early.