Chapter 1: The Basement
Chapter 1: The Basement
Michael threw the basement door open.
A wave of freezing air rushed up the stairs.
The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered weakly, barely cutting through the darkness.
"Noah!"
No answer.
He raced down the wooden steps, Emily close behind.
In the far corner, curled up on the bare concrete floor beneath an old blanket, lay their eight-year-old son.
His lips were pale.
His clothes were damp with sweat.
Beside him was a small puddle of vomit.
His backpack had been tossed across the room, its zipper open, his emergency phone still inside—with the battery completely dead.
Emily dropped to her knees.
"Oh, sweetheart..."
Noah slowly opened his eyes.
"Dad..."
His voice was barely audible.
"I called for you."
Michael's heart stopped.
Noah lifted a trembling hand.
"I... banged on the door."
"I told Aunt Sarah my stomach hurt."
"She said I was pretending."
Tears streamed down Emily's face as she wrapped him in her coat.
Michael picked his son up as gently as he could.
His body felt frighteningly light.
As they reached the top of the stairs, Sarah stood waiting.
"I only wanted him to calm down."
Michael looked at her with a calmness that frightened even himself.
"You locked a sick child in a cold basement."
"You ignored every phone call."
"You ignored every cry."
Sarah opened her mouth.
Michael walked past her.
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"We're done."
Minutes later, an ambulance pulled into the driveway.
