Chapter 3
I drifted through the dead-silent living room, staring at the scattered evidence of their so-called "fairness."
Fourteen years. Every time I drew the short straw, I thought it was just bad luck—that God had simply forgotten me.
Turns out, it was never luck at all.
The whole thing was rigged from the start—a cruel little system Evelyn designed to justify giving Laura everything while I got nothing.
Looking at the shattered porcelain on the floor, I felt a cold far deeper than death itself.
But that despair was cut short by the more insistent smell drifting down from the second floor.
By the third day, the stench from my attic bedroom had become something alive.
Thick and rotten, it crept through the door cracks and vents, spreading down the hallway like a slow poison.
My body had swollen grotesquely, skin stretched tight as an overfilled balloon, my pajamas straining against the bloated flesh. Green bottle flies circled lazily above my face.
"Ew! Mom, it stinks so bad from upstairs! From Riley's room!"
Laura bounded up the stairs, pinching her nose, face twisted in disgust as she backed away from my door.
Evelyn marched over with a can of air freshener. One sniff and her features crumpled.
"That goddamn girl!" she hissed through clenched teeth.
Death still hadn't crossed her mind. In her pristine little worldview, I was using some revolting method to punish them for yesterday's scolding.
"She's using the floor as a toilet! Like some kind of animal!" Evelyn was shaking with fury.
She hammered the nozzle over and over, flooding the hallway with cheap rose fragrance meant to smother the rot.
But you can't mask decomposition.
The two smells merged into something worse. A sickly-sweet abomination that clawed at the throat.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Evelyn sucked in a breath, rearranged her face into that warm smile she wore like armor, and went downstairs to answer.
Susan from next door stood on the porch with a plate of fresh-baked cookies.
"Oh, Evelyn, sorry to bother you. I made some cookies for the girls. Is Riley feeling any better?"
Susan stepped into the foyer and her expression changed instantly. She slapped a hand over her nose, stomach lurching.
"Jesus, Evelyn, what is that smell? Like a dead animal. No, worse than that!"
Evelyn's smile froze. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, it's probably the drains backing up. You know how old the pipes are in this neighborhood..."
"No." Susan's gaze drifted past her, up toward the second floor. "That's coming from upstairs."
Laura chose that moment to poke her head over the banister at full volume:
"It's not the drains! It's Riley! She pooped all over her room! She's a disgusting pig!"
Susan's eyes went wide. "Riley is in her room? Evelyn, what the hell is going on? She hasn't been at school in days. If she's too sick to make it to the bathroom, why haven't you taken her to a hospital?!"
"I appreciate you stopping by, Susan, but this really isn't something you need to worry about." Evelyn's voice turned brittle even as she fought to stay polite. "It's a family matter. Riley is being disciplined."
"Disciplined? You lock a feverish child in her room and ignore her, and you call that discipline?!" Susan's instincts screamed at her.
She'd worked as a nursing aide years ago, and she recognized that smell in her bones.
"I need to see that child." Susan shoved past Evelyn and took the stairs two at a time.
"You stop right there! This is MY house!" Evelyn shrieked, scrambling after her.
Susan reached my door. The stench hit her like a wall, nearly buckling her knees. She pounded on the wood.
"Riley! Riley, can you hear me?"
Nothing. Just the lazy drone of flies.
The color drained from Susan's face. Her hands trembled as she pulled out her phone.
"I'm calling the police. That smell is NOT what you're saying it is, Evelyn. What did you do to her?!"
"Don't you dare! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!" Evelyn lunged for the phone, but Susan had already dialed 911.
Ten minutes later, sirens wailed to a stop in front of the house.
Officer Davis came up the stairs with a uniformed partner. The smell hit him immediately, his brow furrowing into a hard knot.
He pressed a handkerchief over his nose, then turned a severe look on Evelyn, who was still babbling about "normal parenting."
"Ma'am, step back." Davis squared up to the door. "There's been no response from inside. I'm making forced entry."
"You can't! You'll ruin my hallway!" Evelyn threw herself in front of the frame, arms spread wide, still clinging to that pathetic veneer of respectability.
"My daughter is NOT dead! She's throwing a tantrum! She soiled her room on purpose to get back at me!"
"That's enough, Evie."
George appeared at the top of the stairs, jaw tight, irritation radiating off him. He grabbed Evelyn's arm and yanked her aside.
"Arguing with them won't help. Let them open it."
He turned to the officer with a contemptuous smirk. "This is a joke. We haven't laid a finger on that kid. She's just acting out. But sure, go ahead, listen to some nosy busybody who can't mind her own business."
George jabbed a finger at the door. "Kick it in. Let Riley drag herself out here and explain this circus. That girl's attitude is getting worse every goddamn day."
Davis didn't waste another word. He stepped back, raised his heavy boot, and drove it into the lock.
BANG.
Wood splintered. The lock shattered and the door slammed inward, bouncing off the wall.
The stench erupted outward like a tidal wave.
In the stillness that followed, everyone saw what lay beyond the threshold.
My body. Bloated. Blackened. Decomposed beyond recognition.
I floated silently above them all, looking down at the faces of my parents.
