“A man is standing beside it.”
“Understood.
Move as far from the kitchen and basement as possible.
Is there another exit?”
Nora looked toward the pantry.
Her father’s manual shutoff valve was there, but Derek had taken the wrench.
She pictured the flat metal tool that had once hung from a chain inside the red panel.
Without it, the valve was nearly impossible to turn by hand.
Then she remembered the blue folder.
Behind the insurance notice and passport copies was a thin steel document clip.
Her father had used the same kind to open stubborn utility latches.
It would not give her much leverage, but it might be enough.
She placed the phone on speaker and handed it to Lily.
“Stay beside the front wall,” she said.
“Keep talking to the lady.”
Lily caught her wrist.
“Don’t leave me.”
Nora knelt until they were eye to eye.
“I am going ten steps away.
You will see me the whole time.”
Lily swallowed and nodded.
Nora crawled toward the pantry, keeping her body low.
The gas smell was stronger there, bitter and metallic.
She pushed the steel clip through the opening in the valve handle and pulled.
Nothing happened.
Outside, Derek struck the door with his palm.
“Nora, you need to let me in.
Owen made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“He was supposed to inspect the furnace.
That’s all.”
On the basement camera, Owen looked directly toward the lens.
“Derek,” he said, loud enough for the camera microphone to catch, “the timer says four minutes.
You told me the house would be empty.”
The dispatcher said, “We heard that.
Keep recording.”
Derek stepped away from the door and shouted toward the basement entrance.
“Shut it off, then!”
“You took the override key.”
Nora pulled harder on the document clip.
The metal bit into her palm.
The valve moved less than an inch.
A soft crash came from the backyard.
Two police officers had climbed the fence.
One ran toward the basement entrance while the other approached a rear window with a breaching tool.
Derek saw them.
His calm disappeared.
He sprinted toward the white van.
The first officer ordered him to stop.
Derek kept running, reached the driver’s door, and pulled it open.
Before he could climb inside, a patrol car blocked the driveway.
He turned, trapped between the van and the front steps.
Owen emerged from the basement holding both hands above his head.
“There’s a device on the line,” he shouted.
“It’s not mine.
