Chapter 4

I saw red stuff still coming out of Mom's chest. I reached out, trying to press down on it.

But my hand bumped into something hard. My finger got scratched, and red stuff started coming out of it too.

It hurt so much that I started bawling.

I tried to copy how Mom bandaged my finger last time when I cut it being naughty.

I tore a piece off my clothes, trying to bandage Mom. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't move Mom at all.

Mom always paid attention to me, no matter how many times I called out to her.

But now, no matter how loud I shouted, she didn't respond at all.

I wanted to go outside, but when I peeked out, I saw these super tall steps. There was nothing on either side, and they were even taller than our house.

I got so scared, I quickly ducked my head back inside.

Mom was still lying there. The blood had dried on the floor, spreading out like a giant painting.

I couldn't help but crawl closer to look at Mom again. I touched her hand. It was ice-cold. 'She must be really sick.'

Mom always said that if you got sick, you just had to sleep it off and you'd be fine.

So I obediently curled up next to her, just like a good kid. I held her hand tight.

No matter how long I waited, Mom just wouldn't wake up.

At some point, Mom's phone started ringing. The caller ID showed it was Humphrey Howard.

I pressed the answer button, just like Mom had taught me, and soon Humphrey's voice came through.

"Mrs. Lawson, where have you been these past few days? I haven't seen Christine around either," Humphrey said.

I felt a little happy. "Humphrey, I'm with Mom. But she's asleep."

"Can you..." I started to say.

Then Dad's cold voice came through the phone. "Don't forget who you work for. If you call again, you can sign your own termination letter."

I really wanted to tell him. "Mom's just sleeping. Dad, can you come pick us up?"

But there was just silence on the other end. I tried calling for Dad a few more times, but he still didn't answer.

The screen lit up with a picture of me and Mom together. She was the prettiest mom in the whole world.

Some message popped up, but I had no clue what it said. I just knew that it was from Dad.

I tapped it open. Just like Mom showed me before, I pressed the empty spot.

I sent the message. [Dad, Mom's asleep. Can you come pick us up?]

All I got was one cold reply from Dad. [She ran away on her own. Let her come crawling back by herself.]

I wanted to reply, [But Dad, we were taken away by some stranger who shoved us into a car.]

But the phone went dark. No matter how many times I pressed it, it just wouldn't light up again.

I just threw the phone to the side.

That night, the wind howled and the rain came down in sheets.

I hugged Mom tight, curling up as small as I could. After a long night, the rain had washed everything clean around us.

Mom's face was even whiter than before. Her hands were stiff.

I climbed up, my head all dizzy, and started rubbing her big hands with my little ones as hard as I could.

I remembered that one winter when Mom walked me home, but the door was locked.

She kept rubbing my hands over and over, just like this, trying to warm me up.

Gradually, her hands almost felt a bit warmer and softer now.

My clothes were soaked through. Mom said I could't wear wet clothes, or I'dl catch a cold.

So I took off Mom's coat. I took off my own little jacket too, but it was so cold.

I could only cover myself with my little jacket and put Mom's coat over her.

Then I curled up next to Mom. She always felt so warm before, but today, she was cold the whole time.

No matter how much I hugged her, Mom just wouldn't get warm.

By evening, I started burning up. I was so hot it felt like I was going to melt.

And my stomach was growling. I was so hungry it hurt.