Chapter 3

A thunderstorm hit that night. The kind that shakes the whole house.

Chloe screamed. A raw, terrified sound.

She scrambled out of her closet-room, ran towards her parents' bedroom.

"Mommy!"

I was right behind her.

Mrs. Davis opened her door, a silk robe flowing around her. Her face was a mask of annoyance.

"What is it now, Chloe?"

"The storm! I'm scared!" Chloe tried to hug her mother's legs.

Mrs. Davis recoiled. "Don't be ridiculous. Go back to your room. You'll wake Ethan."

She gently, but firmly, pushed Chloe away. Shut the door.

Chloe stood there, stunned. Then the tears came, silent at first, then racking sobs.

I led her back to her little room. She clung to me, shivering.

The next morning, she was burning up. High fever. That cough was now a harsh bark.

She stumbled into the kitchen, looking for her mother.

Mrs. Davis was there, cooing over Ethan, feeding him organic yogurt.

"Mommy," Chloe croaked, reaching out. "I don't feel good. Hug me."

Mrs. Davis spun around. Saw Chloe's flushed face, her trembling hands.

She didn't move closer. Instead, she grabbed a can of disinfectant spray from the counter.

And sprayed it. At Chloe.

"Don't you dare come near Ethan!" Mrs. Davis shrieked. "You're probably contagious!"

Chloe froze, the mist settling on her face. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, then a deep, hollow pain.

I couldn't stop myself. I lunged forward, pulled Chloe behind me.

"She's sick, Mrs. Davis! She needs a doctor, not disinfectant!"

"Stay out of this, Sarah!" Mrs. Davis snapped, her face contorted with anger. "She's always doing this for attention!"

"Her forehead is burning!" I insisted. "This isn't attention-seeking!"

I scooped Chloe into my arms. She felt limp, too light.

"I'm taking her to the hospital."

Mrs. Davis glared. "Fine. Take her. And you can stay there with her. I'll add a bonus to your next paycheck. Just keep her away from here until she's completely well."

She turned back to Ethan as if nothing had happened.

The hospital again. This time, Chloe was quiet, too weak to cry.

The doctor looked grave. Pneumonia. Severe.

They admitted her immediately, started an IV.

I called Mrs. Davis. Told her the diagnosis.

"Pneumonia?" Her voice was cold, distant. "Well, make sure she gets the best treatment. Send me the bills."

"Aren't you coming?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

A sigh. "I can't risk Ethan catching it. You understand. Just... handle it, Sarah. That's what I pay you for."

The line went dead.

Handle it.

Chloe lay in the hospital bed, small and pale against the white sheets. Her eyes were closed, but tears leaked from the corners, tracing paths down her temples.

She wasn't waiting for her mother this time. I think, in that moment with the disinfectant spray, something inside her had finally broken.

Or maybe, it had just accepted the awful truth.