It was the middle of the night in the city of Brighton Falls. The police station wasn’t particularly well lit, and Sergeant Marcus Hale was the only one at the front desk. He was having trouble staying awake.
The only sound in the room was the soft hum of an ancient computer and the faint buzz of the fluorescent light above his head. He looked 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 let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. There hadn’t been a single call since he started working. He mused about whether or not to get himself another cup of old coffee as he reclined back in the chair. Then the phone rang, and the loud sound cut through the calm like a dagger.
Without thinking, he picked up the phone. “Hi, I’m Sergeant Hale from the Brighton Falls Police Department.” What can I help you with?
He could only hear the line crackling for a minute. Then a feeble voice came through, unsteady and hesitant. “Hey?”
Marcus frowned. It sounded like a kid’s voice, maybe six or seven years old. His voice turned softer right away. “Hey there, darling.” Why are you calling the police so late? “Where are your parents?”
The kid stopped for a moment 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. Then the female said something again, but this time it was even quieter. “I can’t.”
Marcus stood up straighter in his chair because he was feeling sick in his chest. “Please tell me what happened.” You only call us when you need to.
The girl said, “It’s important,” and he could hear her trying not to cry. “I tried to wake them up, but they won’t get up.” They don’t want to talk to me.
The tiredness that had made Marcus’s mind dull went away immediately away. He had a feeling that this call wasn’t typical.
He spoke in a calm voice so she wouldn’t become mad. “Maybe they’re just getting a lot of sleep.” It’s rather late, after all.
“No,” the girl said under her breath. I shook them up. Every time I walk in, they wake up. Not this time, though.
Marcus put his hand over the mouthpiece and informed Officer Ramirez, who had been dozing in the corner, to get the patrol car ready. After that, he went back to the phone. “Are there any other adults with you?” “Maybe grandparents or a babysitter?”
“No.” She said, “It’s just me and them.”
“Okay.” Please provide me your address so we can come see everything.
She delivered it to him slowly, stumbling over the numbers. He knew the region well, so Marcus quickly wrote it down: a row of old houses on the edge of town. He kept his voice steady. “Calling was the correct thing to do. Now pay close attention. Stay in your room until we get there. “Can you do that?” Don’t wander off on your own.
“Yes,” she responded in a low voice.
The police car halted in front of a little, two-story house with white paint that was flaking ten minutes later. A light on the porch above the door shone softly. Before they could knock, the front door opened, which astonished Marcus. A little girl in a nightgown was standing there, her eyes wide and afraid.
“They’re upstairs,” she said with a simple gesture along the hall.
Marcus and Ramirez hurriedly looked at each other and then went after her. The room got cool when they walked inside the main bedroom. A man and a woman were lying on the bed next to each other. Their bodies were still, and their faces were pale. There were no traces of a battle or any evident wounds, just a strange silence.
“Oh Lord,” Ramirez said with a gulp.
Marcus immediately called for an ambulance and the police to look into it. The scene was scary, but it didn’t look like a crime. Something else was incorrect.
When the emergency team got there, they quickly found out what had happened. The old heating system had progressively filled the house with gas during the night. Because they were suffocating in their sleep, the parents never woke up.
It was quite amazing that the girl survived. Her bedroom was on the second level, which was a little bit away from where the gas was. More crucially, she usually kept her window open at night. The doctors later reported that she had breathed in enough toxins to make her quite sick, but that tiny bit of fresh air saved her life. She was soon rushed to the hospital, and her condition became better in a few hours.
Marcus thought about the phone conversation over and over again in the days that followed. If he had believed it was a joke or that the girl was just terrified and imagining things, she might not have made it through the night. By choosing to listen to her and take her remarks seriously, he had given her a chance at life.
Marcus kept hearing her voice on the phone over and over again in his head after the case was over. Weak and hesitant, but brave enough to reach out in the dark. And because she did, and because someone answered, hope stayed when sorrow had almost claimed everything.
