Chapter 3

The next two days, the power doesn't come back.

When I'm hungry, I go to the fridge and grab a container. But the microwave doesn't light up either.

I press the red button, but nothing happens.

I have to eat the food cold.

It tastes worse and worse.

The milk starts tasting weird too.

By the third day, the fridge starts to reek.

I'm scared to eat the food. But my stomach roars at me. So I press Dad's icon on the watch.

"Daddy, Lily's hungry."

The second he picks up, I burst into tears.

On his end, I hear music. And Emma laughing.

"Lily? Why are you calling again? There's a whole fridge full of food. How are you hungry?"

Tears drip off my face.

"The microwave doesn't turn on. The fridge smells bad. The food tastes sour. Lily can't eat it."

I try to explain.

"Sour? That's impossible. It's been in the fridge, it can't have gone bad already. Lily, did you grab the wrong one? Top shelf, on the left, the blue container. Did you grab that one?"

"Lily doesn't know… it's dark in the fridge too. I can't see the colors."

"Still with the dark thing?" Dad's voice turns cold. "Didn't your mom tell you yesterday? The house is NOT dark."

"It IS dark!" I slap the watch in frustration. "The milk and juice went bad too. Lily wanted water, but nothing comes out of the sink."

Silence on the other end.

"The water's out?" Dad's tone shifts. "Lily, hang on. Let me call the building super."

I hear him dialing.

A minute later, his voice comes back, ice cold.

"Building management said the water supply is fine. No outage."

"But… there's really no water…"

"Lily Harper!" Dad uses my full name. "Yesterday you said the power was out. Today you say the water's out. Are you doing this on purpose because we didn't bring you along?"

I whimper. "There's really no water. Lily turned the handle so many times…"

Mom takes the phone from Dad.

"Lily, I know you're upset. But you can't keep doing this to worry us. Every time we check, it turns out to be nothing. How am I supposed to believe you?"

"Lily's not lying…" My voice shrinks smaller and smaller.

"Enough. There are two water bottles in the cabinet under the stove. Drink those. We'll be home in a few days."

I whisper okay.

Emma's voice drifts over from the background: "Mom, don't let her pull you back every time. Yesterday it was the power, today it's the water — is it gonna be an earthquake tomorrow? You finally came on a trip with me, and you're STILL making everything about her?"

Mom doesn't answer. But the line goes quiet for a long moment.

Dad sighs.

"Lily, I'm so disappointed in you."

"Eat your food. Stop lying. Do you hear me?"

"Daddy, no, Lily's really so hungry. Lily wants to come find you."

The second I say I'm going out, Mom's voice snaps.

"Lily Harper! Don't you DARE open that door!"

"Did you forget what happened last time you ran off? You almost got taken by strangers!"

My whole body jerks.

The memory floods back — that one time I snuck out to look for Mom and got lost on the street. When she found me, she slapped me across the face. Hard.

"You run off again, I'm done with you! I'll give you away to strangers!"

That was the first time I ever saw Mommy that angry. I can still feel the sting on my cheek.

I yank my hand back from the door handle.

"Lily won't go out. Lily's good. Mommy, please don't stop wanting Lily."

I beg through my sobs.

"Then sit still and behave!"

Mom hangs up.

The dial tone drones in my ear.

I stare at the dead screen. My stomach roars again.

So hungry. So thirsty.

I feel my way to the cabinet under the stove. Mom said there's water here.

I reach inside and sweep my hand around. Nothing.

I reach again. My fingertips touch the wood at the very back.

There really is nothing here.

I sit there for a while, frozen. Then I crawl toward the fridge.

I pull the door open. A wave of rot slams into my face. I gag.

I reach into the top shelf, find a container, pop the lid, scoop a handful into my mouth.

Slimy. Sour. Bitter. I want to throw it up.

But I'm too hungry.

I swallow every bite in that container.

Then I reach for the milk on the second shelf. The carton is bloated. I bite the straw open and suck hard.

A blast of sour rot shoots straight up my nose. I gag and vomit everything onto the floor.

A minute later, my stomach explodes with pain.

I curl up by the fridge, cold sweat pouring off me.

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood.

I choke back every sob.