We were shocked by what the police discovered when my daughter said that her father was beneath the kitchen floor.
My husband passed unexpectedly six months ago, and my four-year-old daughter struggled to comprehend that her father would never return. She had a strong bond with him.
“Mom, you know, dad is under the kitchen floor,” she explained one day in a serious tone. I made an effort to convey to her at the time that her father had left and would never return. She gave me a somewhat disappointed expression but remained silent.
This went on. She kept saying that her father was beneath the floor and that we had to assist him in getting out. I assumed it was a figment of her brain, a coping mechanism for her loss, but the more days went by, the more convinced she appeared to be.
I was sipping my coffee one morning when I heard noises coming from the basement. My daughter came into the kitchen at that point and said, “Mom, do you hear it? I watched him go under the floor, and it’s dad.
My heart became constricted. I phoned the cops right away. There is a garage beneath the kitchen, but we had restricted entrance to it.
The police showed up in a flash. “That’s where dad is, he’s under the floor,” my daughter said, pointing to a particular location with equal assurance.
The garage was searched by the cops. And I was dumbfounded by what they found.
Every area of the garage was thoroughly investigated by the police, who looked through the shelves, old crates, and tools that were kept there.
Then a muffled sound came from a shadowy corner.
Approaching cautiously, one of the policemen found a secret trapdoor beneath a stack of old boxes.
He opened it carefully, exposing a little subterranean room.
A man, pallid and terrified, lay inside on a shabby mattress.
It looked like he had been there for weeks.
Clearly worn out, the man looked up and muttered, “I… I’m hiding.” They’re trying to find me.
He was quickly restrained and handcuffed by the cops.
He was a wanted man in the area for a number of offenses.
