The house was quiet—the kind of afternoon silence that made every small sound echo. Armman was in the living room when he heard it: a muffled, strained cry coming from the master suite.
"Armman! Armman, come here! I’m... I’m stuck!"
He frowned; that was the voice of his stepmom.
He dropped his phone and started heading toward his father’s bedroom. He pushed the heavy wooden door open and stopped. The room was empty, but he could see a pair of legs kicking frantically from beneath the massive, king-sized bed.
"Nelly?" he called, walking closer.
"Down here!" her voice came, sounding small and panicked. "I was looking for my diamond earring. I thought it rolled under the center frame, but I slid too far in. My hips... I think I’m wedged against the support beam."
Armman knelt on the plu
