Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Willow Street
By the third month, the apartment had become a tomb. The cold seeped through the cracks in the walls, turning the air into frost. Ethan had resorted to selling their few remaining toys and their mother’s old clothes to a secondhand shop three blocks away. He wore a heavy hoodie to hide his face and claimed he was running errands for his mother. The pawn shop owner was too busy to ask questions, stuffing a few dollars into Ethan's hand and turning back to his ledger.
But the money didn't stretch. It bought half-loaves of bread and cans of beans that had to be stretched with water.
Ethan’s biggest challenge was keeping the children quiet. Sophie, only five, didn't understand the gravity of their situation. She cried for her toys, she cried for her bed, and most of all, she cried for Laura.
"Stop it, Sophie!" Ben snapped one evening, his own hunger making him irritable. "Mommy isn't here! She left us!"
"Ben, don't!" Ethan barked, his voice sharper than he intended.
The room fell silent. Ben looked at his brother, his eyes welling up. "It’s true. You know it’s true. We’re going to starve."
Ethan felt a surge of panic. He had to get food. Real food. Not just scraps. He began to explore the apartment building, looking for opportunities. He found that the super lived in the basement, a man named Mr. Henderson who spent most of his time drinking. If he could sneak into the storage area, he might find something.
He managed to slip into the super’s pantry while Henderson was distracted with a repair job on the third floor. He grabbed a box of cereal, a jar of peanut butter, and a tin of crackers. He felt like a thief, but he didn't care. He was a provider.
As he was retreating, he heard a voice. "What are you doing here, boy?"
It was the neighbor from 3A, Mrs. Gable. She was standing by the trash chute, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the food in his hands.
"I… I’m just getting snacks for my mom," Ethan stammered.
"Your mom?" Mrs. Gable squinted. "I haven't seen your mother in months, Ethan. And I hear noises in your apartment. Sounds like a bunch of kids. You’re alone in there, aren't you?"
May you like
Ethan’s blood ran cold. "No. My mom is working late. I have to go."
He ran, the cereal box clutched to his chest. He heard her call out, but he didn't stop. When he reached 3B, he collapsed against the door, panting. He had been spotted. The invisible wall he had built around them was beginning to crumble. He knew they were on borrowed time.
