Chapter 7
The day after Mark stormed out, our place became a battlefield between us.
A silent, icy battlefield.
He moved into the guest room, and we stopped talking altogether.
When we crossed paths at home, it was like we were just two strangers under the same roof, passing each other without a word.
I started preparing the divorce paperwork, consulting a lawyer, and dividing our assets.
The home we once envisioned and created together now meant nothing to me—just a string of cold numbers and a pathetic memory.
May was unusually quiet.
Ever since I dropped that bombshell in the neighborhood group chat, she and her son had disappeared from the radar.
I figured the pressure from everyone must've really gotten to them.
After all, being publicly humiliated in front of hundreds of people in a group chat was rough.
I thought the whole mess would quietly die down. But a week later, everything changed.
Monday morning, I was getting ready to leave for work.
As soon as I opened the door, an indescribable stench slammed into me.
It was a sickening blend of rotting food, fermenting trash, and something chemical gone bad.
The smell was so overpowering that it made me want to throw up.
I instinctively covered my nose and mouth.
Then I realized the stench was coming from May's door.
From the crack beneath her door, a thick, dark yellow liquid was seeping out, winding its way across the floor.
The reek was pouring out of that nasty stuff.
I felt sick to my stomach.
Forcing myself not to gag, I hurried into the elevator.
By the time I got to the office, that nasty smell still clung to my nose.
I assumed her drain was clogged or maybe something was busted. I didn't really pay it much mind.
However, this was more than just a clogged drain.
Around three in the afternoon, James called me again.
His voice sounded even more frantic and desperate than before. "Ms. Dawson, please, you have to come back right away. It's really bad!"
My heart sank. "What happened?"
"It's Apt. 1801, Mrs. Gardner's place." James's voice was trembling. "Her apartment... It's about to explode."
Explode? What the hell was going on?
"Mr. Parker, calm down. Take a breath and tell me what's happening."
"I can't help it." James's voice was almost in tears. "All day, the residents in the building have been filing complaints.
"They say the stench on the 18th floor is unbearable.
"We sent the cleaning crew and maintenance guys up to check it out. Turns out the smell is coming from Mrs. Gardner's apartment.
"We knocked, but no one answered. We tried calling, but no one picked up.
"So we got a locksmith to come and force the door open.
"But as soon as the locksmith's drill touched the lock..."
He paused, as if recalling something horrifying. "The door... It started swelling up on its own, like a balloon!
"Yellow liquid sprayed out from the crack, nearly getting all over us.
"We panicked and ran for it.
"Now the door keeps swelling.
"We're afraid the pressure will get so high that it'll actually explode."
As I listened to James, I couldn't stop my mind from flashing to another scene.
Those packages that had popped up out of nowhere in May's place had lipsticks, face masks, clothes, snacks, and so on.
If all that stuff was trapped in that sealed apartment, rotting, going bad, fermenting... How much gas would that create? How much pressure would build up?
A chilling thought started to form in my head.
James said, "Ms. Dawson, we've already evacuated everyone on the 18th floor. We called the cops and the fire department. They're almost here.
"But Mrs. Gardner won't come out, no matter what we say.
"She's yelling from inside, saying this is all your fault. She keeps saying that only you can save her.
"Ms. Dawson, please, I'm begging you. Just come back and take a look.
"If this keeps going, someone could actually die."
James's voice was pleading, desperate for help.
I held my phone in silence.
Should I go?
My judgment told me that it had nothing to do with me.
May's greed got her into this mess.
I had no obligation to clean up her mess.
But if someone really died, could I honestly live with myself?
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright. I'll head back right now."
After hanging up, I grabbed my keys and bolted out the door, speeding the whole way home.
When I got to the building, the whole place was crawling with police cars and fire trucks.
The entire building was cordoned off with police tape.
A bunch of residents were gathered outside, gossiping and speculating.
I pushed through the crowd and rushed into the building.
Two cops stepped in front of me. "Ma'am, it's dangerous in there. You can't go in."
"I'm Claire Dawson, the owner of Apt. 1802," I said.
The two cops exchanged a look, and one of them spoke into his radio.
Soon, James came rushing out of the elevator. "Ms. Dawson, you're finally here!"
He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the elevator. "Hurry. Mrs. Gardner's barely hanging on."