Jason felt indignant, about to retort—
Bzzz, bzzz…
Suddenly, my phone rang loudly in the bedroom.
Jason glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already after two in the afternoon.
“Weird… Mom went out without her phone? It’s way past lunch and she’s still not back…”
He walked to Emily’s door, hesitated, then knocked.
“Sis? Sis! What do you think happened to Mom? Could something really have happened?”
From inside came Emily’s sharp, impatient shout.
“Shut up already! What could possibly happen?”
Seconds later, she yanked open the door, her face twisted with frustration at being interrupted.
“She probably got pissed this morning seeing me play on my phone. She stormed out to play the runaway act, that’s all! Who’s she trying to scare?”
“Forget her. Once she calms down, she’ll crawl back tonight.”
Before Jason could reply, she slammed the door shut again.
Left in the hallway, Jason opened his mouth, then said nothing.
I don’t know how much time passed before I woke again, ripped out of darkness by searing, unbearable pain.
Each breath tugged at broken ribs, my organs felt displaced and crushed.
No—I couldn’t die like this.
I licked furiously at the tape. The beating had loosened it, and at last, I could open my mouth!
Saved! I could finally call for help!
I tried to shout “Help!” with all my strength.
But the next instant, my heart sank to ice.
My teeth… were almost all gone.
During Jason’s punches, they must have been knocked out or shattered and swallowed.
Agonizing pain shot from my jaw straight to my skull. My body convulsed.
I tried to make a sound, even the faintest hiss of breath, but with my throat and mouth so damaged, only the weakest wheeze escaped.
Tears streamed down my face.
I couldn’t die like this—silently, unnoticed!
I summoned every last ounce of strength, straining my shoulders and knees to knock against the inside of the bag.
Once, twice…
Jason was sitting on the couch fiddling with the remote when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the bag give the slightest shiver.
He froze, frowning, staring hard at it.
“Huh?”
He rubbed his eyes, checked the closed windows. No wind.
“Sis… the punching bag just… moved by itself?”
Emily’s door flew open again. She stormed out, glaring impatiently at the still bag.
By then, I had already drained the last of my strength and could no longer move.
“Moved? You blind? Which punching bag moves on its own?”
Emily shoved Jason’s head hard.
“You’re just bored out of your mind! Stop with the spooky crap. Do your own thing! If you interrupt my game again, I’ll beat you too!”
She slammed the door again.
Jason hunched his shoulders, rubbing his sore head, then squinted at the bag a few more seconds. It didn’t budge again.
“Guess I imagined it…”
Finally, he gave up and went back to his room to do homework.
By evening, David Miller came home.
He tossed his briefcase on the shoe rack, glanced at the quiet kitchen, and called out in his usual gruff tone.
