Free The Boy Under the Table by Nicole Trope

brought her into the house and let her see the child indicated someone with no fear of repercussions. Without fear. If he caught her here tonight, doing this, he would surely kill her.
    Tina looked around the room from the top of the counter.
    The boy was still under the table, shivering in the icy air. Whatever was going to happen, there was no way she was going to leave him here. It was too late now to turn back. He was so tiny and skinny Tina stopped to breathe in and out before approaching him. He looked breakable.
    Her body relaxed in the silence and she thought how easy it would be just to climb back out the window and go to the police. She could shout and scream until they came. She could . . . but she was here now and this was where she was supposed to be.
    She slipped off the counter and got down on her hands and knees. She crawled over to where the boy was, almost sliding along the polished floor. When she got close to him she saw his body tense. He was awake and he was waiting for something. He had probably been listening since she slid the window up. Before he could make any noise she pushed her hand across his mouth.
    He sat up instantly, already terrified and struggling, but when he saw Tina he became still. He had not been expecting Tina.
    For a moment he just stared at her and waited. Tina could see him thinking it through. Here was something new and he would wait before going crazy at her.
    Tina pushed her finger up against her lips and the boy nodded. She took the knife out of her pocket and began sawing at the rope that was tied around his leg.
    He sat stiffly for a moment and then he leaned forward and pulled the rope a little to make it easier for Tina to get to. His fingers brushed against her. They were ice-cold. Tina resisted the urge to grab his hand and blow warm breath on his fingers.
    It was heavy-going. The knife was a simple flick knife and it wasn’t in the best shape. Tina knew there was probably a much better knife somewhere in the house, but if the man had any intelligence he would have taken them all out of the kitchen.
    Finally the rope around the boy’s leg loosened and broke. The skin underneath looked wrong even in the dim light coming from the street. Like it had chafed and healed many times.
    Tina was sweating. She took off her heavy coat and draped it around the boy. He sighed quietly as he sank into her leftover warmth. But then she had to take it off his shoulders so she could get at the rope on his neck. He didn’t protest but she saw him bite his lip.
    He was motionless and noiseless. If she looked at his face he lowered his eyes. Even the fiercest of animals can understand when they are being helped.
    Tina was terrified of hurting or cutting him so she went very slowly. Her hands were starting to cramp.
    She put the knife down on the floor and opened and closed her hands a few times until the cramp went away.
    Then she sighed and picked up the knife again.
    All she could hear was her ragged breath and the boy’s whistling one. He wiped his nose on his T-shirt every few minutes.
    Jesus, Tim, get a bloody tissue, will you?
    I don’t need one.
    Yes you do. Come here. Blow.
    The boy’s head lifted a little and he turned as though he was listening to something. Tina stopped sawing at the rope and listened too. They both held their breaths.
    Right here, right now, in this cold kitchen they were just animals. They only had their senses and their instincts to rely on so Tina cocked her head like a cat and tried to hear what the boy was hearing.
    In the stillness of the kitchen they could hear something other than the air moving in and out of their lungs.
    Tina moved closer to the boy and crouched next to him to wait until she could work out what the noise was. She made herself small and felt his cold arm against her. She stilled herself. Something, someone was coming. There were footsteps. Slow, creeping footsteps.
    Light flooded the kitchen.
    ‘What the fuck?’ said the man,