When officers arrived at the small wooden chalet on the edge of town, the scene felt wrong from the start.
Sofia was sitting barefoot on the cold ground, her knees pulled to her chest. She clutched a worn stuffed animal so tightly its ear was bent out of shape. Her eyes were red and swollen, but she wasn’t crying.
That stillness unsettled the officers more than tears would have.
As they approached the front door, the smell hit them.
Gas.
Sharp and unmistakable, mixed with something metallic that lingered in the air. Officer Morales didn’t hesitate. He radioed for the fire department immediately.
The girl spoke quietly as they waited.
“A few days ago,” she said, staring at the grass, “Mom said the boiler was making strange noises.”
“Did anyone come to fix it?” Morales asked.
She shook her head.
“No. Dad said it was fine.”
Firefighters arrived quickly. Masks went on. The house was cleared for entry.
Leave a Comment