were sleeping in the rooms she decorated.”
Her voice trembled.
“There were disinfectants. Medication. Oxygen equipment.”
Nathan looked toward the floor.
“I said I wanted it gone.”
“Yes.”
“I meant the equipment.”
“I thought you meant all of it.”
He closed his eyes.
There it was.
A misunderstanding born from grief.
Mrs. Bennett continued.
“I asked the air company for something to make the floor smell normal again.”
Nathan whispered:
“And nobody checked what they installed.”
“No.”
“Why the ionizers?”
“Vendor recommendation.”
“Why monthly booster concentrate?”
“To keep the smell neutral.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I thought I was making the rooms feel like home.”
No villain.
A grieving house manager.
A grieving father.
A vendor overselling equipment.
A technician inheriting bad instructions.
Children caught inside all of it.
Nathan said nothing for a long time.
Then:
“What happens now?”
That was the correct question.
Maya answered.
“Remove the systems.”
“
