The words didn’t make sense at first. They hovered in the air, disconnected from reality.
“What?” I whispered. “What are you talking about?”
Noah grabbed my arm and dragged me fully into the bathroom. Only then did I see what my fear had blinded me to—the cracked casing of the old electric water heater above the shower, sparks faintly flickering, water pooling dangerously across the floor. The smell of burnt plastic hung thick in the air, sharp and unmistakable.
“She collapsed in the shower,” Noah said rapidly, his hands shaking. “I heard her scream and then this loud thud. The heater short-circuited. The current was running through the water. She couldn’t move. She was being electrocuted.”
My legs gave out. I leaned against the sink, the room spinning.
“I broke the door, shut off the main breaker, and pulled her out,” he continued. “If I’d been even a minute later—”
He stopped, unable to finish.
Hannah’s voice was barely audible. “I couldn’t breathe. Everything went dark. I thought… I thought that was it.”
I grabbed a towel with trembling hands, wrapping it around her, pulling her against my chest as her body began to shake uncontrollably.
“I didn’t want to scare you,” she sobbed softly. “That’s why I told you it was just a fever. But I felt dizzy all morning. And there’s something else.”
