Chapter 2 - The Warning Caleb Was Not Supposed to See)
Emma deleted the messages.
Then she recovered them from the trash folder ten minutes later.
She did not know why.
Maybe because she feared Mom would see them.
Maybe because she feared she would need them.
The next morning, her breathing seemed better.
That allowed Emma to convince herself the symptoms had been anxiety.
The anonymous messages had probably made everything worse.
Chest tightness.
Fast heartbeat.
Dizziness.
All of it could be stress.
She searched online during breakfast.
She found dozens of possible explanations.
Anxiety.
Asthma.
Anemia.
Viral infection.
Heart conditions.
Blood clots.
She closed the browser when the list became frightening.
Caleb sat across from her eating cereal.
“What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.”
“You always say nothing when it’s something.”
“And you always ask questions nobody invited you to ask.”
He grinned.
Mom entered wearing her cardigan and carrying a travel mug.
“Emma, I need you home right after school.”
“I work today.”
“You’re scheduled at four?”
“Four-thirty.”
“Then you have time.”
“For what?”
“The kitchen.”
Emma looked toward the sink.
There were three plates.
“Seriously?”
“I’m having people from work over Friday. This house is embarrassing.”
Daniel glanced up.
“It’s Tuesday.”
“So?”
“So maybe she can do it tomorrow.”
Mom’s expression tightened.
“She lives here.”
“I know.”
“She barely does anything.”
Emma pushed her cereal away.
“I’ll do it.”
Caleb looked at her.
“You’re sick.”
Mom’s eyes moved toward him.
“She has a cold.”
“She almost fell upstairs yesterday.”
“Caleb.”
“She did.”
Emma kicked his foot under the table.
He ignored it.
“She was breathing weird too.”
Mom looked at Emma.
“You said you were fine.”
“I am.”
Daniel set down his mug.
“Emma.”
“I’m fine.”
He studied her for several seconds.
“Come here.”
“What?”
“Come here.”
Emma stood.
Daniel placed two fingers against her wrist.
Mom almost laughed.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking her pulse.”
“You’re an accountant.”
“I know how to count.”
Caleb smiled.
Daniel looked at the wall clock.
Emma watched his expression become more serious.
“Your pulse is fast.”
“I just walked over here.”
“Six feet.”
Mom checked the time.
“We are going to be late.”
Daniel ignored her.
“Any chest pain?”
Emma hesitated.
Mom noticed.
“Emma.”
“A little pressure.”
Daniel stood.
“I’m taking you to a doctor.”
“I have school.”
“School will survive.”
Mom put down her travel mug harder than necessary.
“She has exams this week.”
Daniel stared at her.
“She said she has chest pressure.”
“Because Caleb is making her anxious.”
Caleb’s mouth fell open.
“How is this my fault?”
“I didn’t say it was your fault.”
“You literally said my name.”
“Enough.”
Emma closed her eyes.
The argument was making her heart beat faster.
“I don’t want to go.”
Daniel turned.
“Why not?”
Because Mom would be angry.
Because missing school would become evidence later.
Because if a doctor said nothing was wrong, Mom would bring it up for months.
Because Emma had been taught that needing help created work for everyone else.
She said none of that.
“I have a chemistry test.”
Daniel looked unconvinced.
Mom grabbed her bag.
“There. She made a decision.”
Caleb stared at Emma as their parents left.
The garage door closed.
Then he said, “That was stupid.”
“Thanks.”
“You should go.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
Emma began gathering dishes.
“Because it’s probably nothing.”
Caleb followed her into the kitchen.
“What if it isn’t?”
She turned on the faucet.
“Then I’ll deal with it.”
“When?”
“When something actually happens.”
Caleb stared at her.
Something in his expression made Emma regret the words immediately.
He quietly reached into his pocket.
“What?”
Caleb handed her his phone.
A photograph filled the screen.
It showed a folded piece of paper.
The paper was old.
Yellowed.
A name appeared near the top.
MICHAEL REED.
Emma looked at him.
“Where did you get this?”
“Garage.”
“You went through Mom’s stuff?”
“I was looking for my skateboard charger.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It was in a box with old electronics.”
Emma enlarged the picture.
It was part of a letter from a hospital.
Most of the text was too small to read.
But one phrase stood out.
Inherited clotting disorder.
Emma stopped.
“Where’s the letter?”
“Mom took the box.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
Emma’s eyes snapped toward him.
“She saw you?”
“No. I left the garage. Came back ten minutes later. Box was gone.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No.”
Emma enlarged the photo again.
There was a handwritten note in the margin.
Tell Diane Emma must be tested when she is older.
The kitchen seemed suddenly very quiet.
Caleb whispered, “That’s you, right?”
Emma nodded.
She remembered her question from the previous night.
Was he sick before that?
No.
Blood problems?
No.
“She lied,” Caleb said.
Emma swallowed.
“Maybe there’s an explanation.”
“She moved the box.”
“There could still be an explanation.”
Caleb stared at her.
“You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Find reasons for Mom.”
Emma handed back the phone.
“Send me the photo.”
He did.
Emma’s phone buzzed.
At almost the same moment, another message arrived from the unknown number.
May you like
This time there were only six words.
You do not have much time.
