Chapter 4

Mom's face went pale.

She stared toward Mr. Dalton and muttered stubbornly,

"That can't be right. I left the kitchen window open..."

The security guard spotted Mom and raised the bullhorn even higher.

"Rachel Stuart in Unit 2401? It's your apartment! We traced the readings floor by floor. The concentration is off the scale, and every gas detector in the building is sounding!"

Mom's knees buckled so suddenly that she nearly collapsed.

Her face had gone white, but she still insisted,

"That isn't possible. I opened the window. How could there be a leak..."

Before she finished, she grabbed Lily and ran toward the lobby.

She left the strawberries she had picked out sitting on the market stand.

The elevator was already on the first floor. She stabbed the close button so wildly that her trembling finger missed it twice.

Inside, Lily sobbed so hard that her braids came loose.

Mom looked terrified. For once, she forgot that Lily was usually the child she treasured above everything.

"All you do is cry! You little curse! None of this would have happened if you hadn't touched the stove!"

Lily sucked in a painful breath and bit her lip to keep quiet.

The elevator chimed.

The doors opened on the twenty-fourth floor.

A heavy rotten-egg smell rolled inside. Mom coughed twice, and her face turned even whiter.

I floated after Mom and Lily.

A crowd filled the hallway outside our apartment.

Police officers, building staff, and neighbors stood there with hands over their noses, craning to see inside.

Our front door had already been forced open. The bent lock hung crookedly and swung whenever the hallway air moved.

The moment Mom saw it, she lunged at the property manager and grabbed his arm.

"Who gave you permission to break my lock? This is trespassing! I'll sue you!

"You owe me a new door! That security door cost thousands of dollars. You're paying for it!"

Her shrieking echoed through the entire hallway. A neighbor nearby gave a sharp laugh.

She spoke just loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"Weren't you downstairs bragging that you locked your son in the kitchen to teach your daughter a lesson?"

"You didn't care about your child, but now you're worried about a lock."

"Exactly. I heard her saying she was a modern mother who refused to favor boys. Apparently that means locking her son in a kitchen full of leaking gas while she goes out for strawberries."

The whispers stabbed at Mom like needles. Her face turned dark red.

She released the manager and raised a hand to argue with the neighbors, but the elevator chimed behind her again.

Dad rushed out carrying his work bag, sweat covering his face and one button of his shirt fastened in the wrong hole.

He turned pale at the crowd. When he saw Lily beside Mom, relief flashed across his face.

Then he seemed to realize someone was missing and grabbed Mom's arm.

"Rachel! Where is Noah? Building management called me over and over about a gas leak. He wasn't home, was he?"

Before he finished speaking, two emergency responders in protective gear carried a small stretcher from the kitchen, covered with a white sheet.

The shape beneath it was tiny.

I knew.

That was me.

The lead officer removed his stained gloves and walked toward Mom.

His expression was grave, and every word struck the hallway like a stone.

"Your son inhaled a lethal amount of natural gas. I'm sorry. He did not survive."