It was the middle of the night in Brighton Falls. There wasn’t much light in the police station, so Sergeant Marcus Hale sat alone at the front desk. He was having trouble staying awake.
The only sound in the room was the soft buzz of the fluorescent light over his head and the quiet hum of an old computer. He glanced up at the clock on the wall.
The hands were almost exactly at three. This was generally the toughest hour, when it felt like the whole world had stopped breathing and the silence was thicker than usual.
Marcus sighed and rubbed his eyes. Since his shift started, he hadn’t gotten a single call. He reclined back in his chair and thought about whether or not to get another cup of old coffee. Then the phone rang, and its loud sound cut through the silence like a dagger.
He picked up the phone without even thinking. “Hi, this is Sergeant Hale with the Brighton Falls Police Department.” What can I do for you?
For a minute, all he could hear was the connection breaking apart. Then a feeble voice came through, unsteady and uncertain. “Hey?”
Marcus made a face. The voice sounded like a kid’s, maybe six or seven years old. His tone changed right away. “Hey, sweetie.” Why are you calling the police so late? “Where are your mom and dad?”
The kid stopped for a second before replying, “They’re in the bedroom.”
“Can you call your mom or dad?” Marcus asked in a quiet voice.
After that, there was a long silence. The girl spoke again, but this time she was much quieter. “I can’t.”
Marcus sat up straighter in his chair because he felt sick in his chest. “Please tell me what happened.” You only call us when something important is happening.
“It’s important,” the girl said, and he could hear her trying not to cry. “I went to wake them up, but they won’t get up.” They don’t want to talk to me.
The tiredness that had dulled Marcus’s mind went away right away. His instinct warned him that this call was not typical.
He spoke in a calm voice so she wouldn’t get angry. “Maybe they’re just getting a lot of sleep.” It’s rather late, after all.
The girl said, “No.” I shook them. When I walk in, they always wake up. This time, no.
Marcus put his hand over the mouthpiece and informed Officer Ramirez, who was dozing in the corner, to get the patrol car ready. After that, he picked up the phone again. “Are there any other adults with you?” “Maybe a babysitter or grandparents?”
“No.” “It’s just me and them,” she remarked.
“Okay. Please provide me your address so we can come see everything.
She handed it slowly, stumbling over the numbers. Marcus quickly scribbled it down because he knew the area: a row of old houses on the fringe of town. He kept his voice steady. “You did the right thing by calling. Now listen carefully. Don’t leave your room until we get there. “Can you do that?” Don’t go off by yourself.
“Yes,” she answered in a quiet voice.
The police car parked in front of a little two-story house with fading white paint ten minutes later. A warm light shone on the porch above the door. Marcus was shocked when the door opened before they could knock. A little girl in a nightgown stood there with her eyes wide open and afraid.
“They’re upstairs,” she said simply, pointing down the hall.
Marcus and Ramirez exchanged short glances before following her. The room got cool when they walked inside the main bedroom. A man and a woman were lying next to each other on the bed. Their faces were pale, and their bodies were still. There were no traces of a battle and no evident wounds, just an eerie quiet.
“Oh Lord,” Ramirez said in shock.
Marcus immediately called for an ambulance and the police to come and look into it. It was alarming, yet it didn’t seem like a crime. There was something more that wasn’t right.
When the emergency team got there, they found out what had happened right soon. A gas leak from the old heating system had steadily filled the house during the night. The parents never woke up since they were dying in their sleep.
The fact that the girl lived was nothing short of astounding. The gas was a little far away from her bedroom, which was on the second level. She also left her window open at night a lot, which was more crucial. That little burst of fresh air saved her life, but later doctors determined she had breathed in enough pollution to make her very sick. They swiftly took her to the hospital, and her condition became better within a few hours.
Marcus kept thinking about the phone call for days after it happened. He might not have made it through the night if he felt it was a joke or that the girl was just imagining things because she was terrified. By choosing to listen to her and take her comments seriously, he had given her a chance to live.
After the case was over, Marcus couldn’t stop hearing her voice on the phone over and over in his head. Weak, unsure, but brave enough to reach out in the dark. And because she did, and because someone answered, hope persisted when sadness had almost claimed all.