“No!” Sebastian snarled in a rushed whisper as he struggled to pull the linen closet door shut as he shot a panicked look past Trevor’s shoulder.
“Open. The. Door,” Trevor said evenly to his son as he kept his hand on the closet door to stop it from closing.
“Dad, please!” he whispered as the rest of the children cowered behind him, squeezing themselves into that small closet while Trevor stood there, shaking his head and sighing heavily as he reluctantly released his hold on the door and allowed his son to shut the door.
“It’s not that bad,” he lied to the closed door as he rubbed his hands roughly down his face, wondering how things had gone so bad so fast.
One day his wife was the sweetest woman alive and the next…
“We should go skiing!” his wife said with an excited squeal as she disappeared back into the twin’s bedroom with another gallon of paint.