Chapter 3

"Mom."

A hand gently grabbed Mom's wrist.

It was Ethan. My older brother, who used to protect me from everything when we were kids.

He stood at the pantry door, his eyebrows slightly knitted in annoyance.

"Hazel is just being stubborn. The more you yell at her, the more she’s going to resist."

He sighed, turning his eyes toward the dark pantry.

"Hazel, I know this sucks. But Lily is a baby; she can’t handle any setbacks. Just hang in there a little longer, okay? Once this week is over, I’ll take you out to McDonald's and buy you whatever you want."

There was no reply from inside.

I couldn't move.

My body was curled on the cold floor, like a wounded animal seeking a dark corner to die.

The dried blood from my forehead had sealed one of my eyes shut.

Cold sweat mixed with warm, sticky fluid ran down my cheek.

I stared blankly at the crack of the door.

*Mom, please. Just look down.*

*Just a little bit more.*

*And you would see me.*

But—

The light vanished.

The door slammed shut, and the lock clicked.

I heard Ethan sigh softly on the other side.

"Don't worry, Hazel. As soon as Lily gets better, I'll convince Mom and Dad to let you rest. I'll buy you anything you want to eat."

Their footsteps faded away.

They all left.

The pantry plunged into a terrifying, absolute silence.

I lay frozen on the floor.

And my chest stopped moving.

*Mom.*

*You were so close.*

*You could have saved me.*

In the darkness, my soul drifted out of my cold shell. I saw them gathered around Lily’s white crib in the nursery.

Mom was tucking Lily in with a soft blanket, while Dad carefully fed her a bottle of formula.

Ethan was organizing the blessed silver crosses and lavender satchels around the room.

They all had relaxed, hopeful smiles on their faces.

Only I was left behind, locked in that cramped pantry, transforming into a silent, frozen statue.

*Dad. Mom.*

*Lily’s life was everything to you.*

*But what about mine?*

My spirit followed them to the spiritual temple the next day.

Everyone was praying devoutly.

Only Dad looked restless, constantly checking his watch.

When the service finally ended, he practically begged Mom as they walked to the parking lot.

"I’m really worried about Hazel, Eleanor. She was too weak to sleep last night, and she didn't eat anything this morning. We need to go home and check on her!"

Mom frowned, her face tightening.

"Check on what? She’s missed a couple of meals. Is her attitude more important than Lily’s life?"

Dad clenched his fists, his voice shaking with desperation.

He grabbed Mom's arm, but she slapped him across the face.

Mom’s eyes grew red, her voice cracking with emotion.

"These last few days are the most critical! If we mess up now, does that mean all of Hazel’s sacrifices were for nothing?"

"Just stay here and keep praying. I’ll drive back to get our insulated thermoses and check on her while I’m there."

Dad finally let out a sigh of relief.

Mom drove back to our suburban house.

She grabbed the thermoses from the kitchen island.

Then, she walked over to the pantry door. Her voice softened slightly, though it was still laced with deep suspicion.

"Hazel, I know you’re listening. Just behave yourself. Don't try any tricks. Once the fast is over and the dark energy is gone, I’ll let you out, okay?"

Silence.

Mom’s expression darkened.

"Hazel."

She lowered her voice, spitting the words through her teeth.

"When are you going to stop this drama? Do you think I don't know what you're doing? Every time you scream about your stomach hurting or being hungry, you’re just acting. You want us to feel guilty so we’ll let you out, so you can ruin Lily’s recovery, don't you?"

She banged heavily on the wooden door.

But then, she stopped.

Frowning, she muttered to herself, "Why is she so quiet? Is she planning something?"

She grabbed the brass doorknob and turned it.

The door swung open slightly.

The hem of my oversized yellow pajama shirt was visible in the crack.