“Alright, Lily,” Ellen continued, keeping her voice calm and steady. “I need you to listen carefully. Where are your parents right now?”
“They are in their room. I tried shaking them. Mommy did not move. Daddy did not answer me.”
Ellen signaled silently to the supervisor beside her. Within seconds, a response unit was dispatched to the address Lily provided. Fire services and medical teams were alerted as well.
“Lily, I want you to do something for me,” Ellen said. “Can you walk outside the house right now and go somewhere with fresh air. Maybe the front yard or near the driveway.”
“But it is cold,” Lily whispered.
“I know,” Ellen replied softly. “But it is very important. Bring something warm if you can, and take your favorite toy with you. I will stay on the phone with you the whole time.”
A minute later, Ellen heard the creak of a door and the crunch of gravel. Lily sat down outside, hugging a small stuffed rabbit, her pajamas thin against the night air.
When the first patrol car arrived at the cabin style home near the edge of Pinebrook Lake, the officers immediately noticed the smell. Gas. Strong. Sharp. Unmistakable.