Chapter 11: Breaking the Silence
The bell above the bakery door jingled sharply, shattering the tense afternoon quiet. I looked up from the wooden flour table where I was mechanically kneading a batch of sourdough, my arms aching from hours of repetitive motion. Officer Miller walked in, his heavy boots clicking against the linoleum floor. He wore his standard-issue uniform, his badge catching the pale afternoon sunlight filtering through the front window.
Arthur emerged from the back office almost instantly, wiping his hands on a clean white cloth, his expression instantly transforming into one of weary, sorrowful hospitality.
"Officer Miller. Come in, come in," Arthur said, stepping forward with a practiced air of solemn concern. "I hope there’s news about the little boy. We've been beside ourselves all morning worrying about him."
Miller didn't smile. He placed his hands on his belt, his eyes sweeping across the bustling interior of the bakery before landing squarely on Arthur.
"Little Leo is still in the pediatric ICU, Arthur. They've managed to stabilize his core temperature, but he's suffering from severe cold-air aspiration and pulmonary distress. He hasn't regained consciousness yet," Miller said, his voice official and devoid of warmth. "I need to talk to you and your apprentice about the mechanics of that commercial freezer unit."
My hands paused in the dough. My heart gave a heavy thump against my ribs.
"Of course, anything to help," Arthur replied smoothly, though I saw his knuckles whiten where he gripped the cloth. "It's a terrible tragedy. As I told the patrol unit yesterday, the children wandered in from the street while my back was turned. The girl opened the door, and before I could stop them, the boy slipped inside."
"That's not quite how the sister remembers it, Arthur," Miller countered, pulling a small notebook from his breast pocket and flipping it open. "Maya insists that she didn't open the door. She says the door was already slightly ajar, and when her brother tried to push it closed, the internal vacuum seal trapped him because the manual release handle wouldn't budge from the inside."
Arthur let out a low, heavy sigh, shaking his head with an expression of profound pity. "The poor girl is traumatized, Officer. Her imagination is running wild to cope with the shock. Ask the lad here. He was right beside me at the counter when she came screaming in."
Miller turned his head, his sharp eyes fixing on me across the bakery counter. The hum of the refrigeration units seemed to magnify, filling the silence between us. Every instinct warned me to nod along, to keep my head down, to protect the livelihood that kept food on my own table. I looked from the officer's steady gaze to Arthur's unblinking, warning glare from across the room.
"Well, lad?" Miller asked quietly, pen poised above his notebook. "Did you notice anything unusual about that freezer door before yesterday?"
The flour dust danced in the sliver of sunlight between us. I wiped my palms on my apron, my fingers trembling slightly as I thought of the invoice sitting in the office desk drawer.
"I..." My voice cracked, and I had to clear my throat before trying again. "I remember us having trouble with the latch sticking a few months back, Officer. The unit has been running heavy for a long time."
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Arthur took a sharp step forward, his face flushing a dark, mottled crimson. "Lad, watch your tongue. The stress of yesterday is making you confused."
"It's not confusion, Arthur," I said, finally looking the baker dead in the eye. "The latch has been broken since October. And we both know it."
