The Fridge That Rot, The Promise That Rotted Too Chapter 06

The Fridge That Rot, The Promise That Rotted Too Chapter 06

Dad froze, then whipped around toward the open fridge.

The stench from inside was stomach-churning. Every container had sprouted green mold, the food

collapsed into a rotting, unrecognizable sludge.

“How could this happen… how could the food have gone bad?”

Dad mumbled the words to himself as he stumbled toward the fridge. He pressed the control panel.

Nothing.

He hit the kitchen light switch.

Click.

No light.

“No power?”

His voice shot up, shaking with something that sounded like the first crack of understanding.

“The house really lost power?”

Serena stood in the doorway, her face draining of color.

The police arrived quickly. Camera flashes went off as the medical examiner, masked, examined

the body.

A female officer helped Mom to the couch, where she sat like a hollow shell, staring blankly toward the kitchen. Dad leaned against the wall, face buried in his hands, shoulders heaving.

The medical examiner stood, removed his gloves, and murmured a few words to the lead officer.

The officer walked over to my parents.

“Sir, ma’am, preliminary findings are in.”

“The deceased had a large amount of spoiled food in her stomach. Preliminary cause of death is acute gastroenteritis caused by eating spoiled food, accompanied by severe dehydration and electrolyte imbalance, leading to fatal shock.”

“To put it simply, she died in extreme pain, and of extreme thirst.”

Mom’s body trembled violently. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Dad pulled his hands away from his face. His eyes were bloodshot.

The dead fridge. The blackened, dried vomit. The empty milk cartons scattered on the floor.

Every word Pearl had said on those phone calls had been true.

His hands slid down the wall and gripped the edge of the stove, knuckles white.

“It was me…” The words scraped out of his throat, barely audible. “She said the power was out, and

I checked the utility app and saw there was still money in the account… so I thought she was lying… I didn’t even call building management…”

Mom rose from the couch and staggered into the kitchen.

She opened the fridge door. The rancid air hit her full in the face, but she didn’t flinch. Green-fuzzed containers. Bloated milk cartons. Vegetables liquefied into pulp.

She was the one who had packed each box neatly inside.

She crouched down and reached under the stove. She opened the cabinet and felt around the very

back.

Empty. Nothing.

She remembered the two bottles of water she’d placed there. She’d told Pearl on the phone to go get

them.

But the cabinet was empty.

“I told her there was water here…” Mom’s voice shook. “She must have looked… and found

nothing…”

Dad walked to the faucet and turned it. No water came out.

Then he noticed the valve beneath the sink. It was shut off.

The day before they left, Mom had asked him to close the main valve to check for leaks. He’d closed it-and forgotten to turn it back on.

“I closed the valve…” Dad’s voice cracked. “I forgot to open it…”

The officer stood to the side, silently watching.

–ld bar for power- she found power on her own terms.

Dad spoke first.

“She called.”

His voice was hoarse, not answering the officer-more like passing judgment on himself.

“Several times. The first time she said the house was dark. The second time she said the food

smelled bad and there was no water. The third time…”

He couldn’t finish.

Mom covered her mouth with both hands. She remembered the words she’d said into the phone.

If you call again, I’ll send you to a foster home. I mean it.

That was the last thing she’d ever said to Pearl.

“I killed her.”

Mom’s voice leaked through her fingers, not a sob but a dry, shattered calm.

“Every single call was her begging for help. And I didn’t believe her once.”

She knelt in front of the fridge, staring at the dried patch of vomit on the floor.

“I called her a liar. I said she was being difficult. I said if she called again, I didn’t want her anymore.”

Dad slowly slid down the wall and sat on the floor.

He thought of Pearl’s voice on that last phone call. So faint, so small, like she’d used every bit of strength to push out two words.

Mom, it hurts.

And what had he been doing?

He had been sitting at the beach, laughing, eating a big dinner.