Chapter 2

At three in the morning, I woke up, shivering.

An icy cold seeped through my heavy sleeping bag, biting into my bones. The digital thermometer on the wall showed a chilling red number: -5°C.

Just half an hour ago, when I fell asleep, it had been +8°C.

The only heat source, the coal stove in the living room, was out.

I grabbed my jacket and rushed out of the bedroom.

In the living room, Eleanor was using my last iron shovel, laboriously prying open the sewer cover, dumping shovelful after shovelful of black coal into it.

The ton of anthracite coal I’d piled in the corner, enough for the three of us to survive the winter, was already more than half gone.

The sewage mixed with coal dust gave off a nauseating stench.

"Stop!" I yelled, my voice hoarse from the cold and fury.

Eleanor jumped, and the shovel clanged to the ground.

Instead of looking guilty, she straightened up, pointed at me, and snapped, "You jinx! What are you doing up in the middle of the night? Trying to scare me to death?"

I looked at the coal, now turned into sludge in the sewer, and my vision blurred with rage.

"That's our coal! Our only way to survive the cold! What are you doing?"

"Of course I know!" Eleanor put her hands on her hips, indignant, and pointed to a brand new golden idol of prosperity she had enshrined in the center of the table. "The mystic said there were too many dark things in the house blocking our luck! Look how gloomy this place is. How is the God of Prosperity supposed to come in?"

That golden idol was the only "luggage" she and Ethan had brought when they fled to my house yesterday.

The bedroom door opened, and Ethan, my husband, walked out, wrapped in my thickest goose down jacket.

He yawned sleepily, saw what was happening, and didn't stop Eleanor. Instead, he frowned at me.

"Sarah, why are you yelling at Mom? She's only trying to help us."

I let out a dry, humorless laugh, pointing at the half-empty coal pile. "Trying to help us? She threw away all the coal! We'll freeze to death tonight, the three of us. Is that 'helping' us?"

Ethan waved his hand impatiently. "It's just a little coal, isn't it? Go find some more. Mom brought the idol so we can turn our lives around. What do you know?"

As he spoke, he carefully walked to the glass display cabinet by the wall, pulled out a few hand warmers from his jacket, and meticulously stuck them to the bases of his precious action figures.

"These are all limited editions. With the temperature outside, the plastic can easily get brittle. What if they crack?" He didn't even look up. "If these appreciate in value, our whole family will rely on them to make a fortune. You're just a woman, what's a little chill to you?"

I looked at his self-righteous face, then at Eleanor, who wore a 'I'm thinking of you' expression. A shiver ran down my spine, though not from the cold.

Just then, Eleanor started a new action.

She walked to the window and began ripping off the multi-layer thermal reflective film I had painstakingly installed three years ago, a task that had taken incredible effort.

"This has to go too!" she said, tearing it. "Windows are where good luck enters! You sealed them off completely! How's the God of Prosperity supposed to come in? Do you want us all to freeze to death?"

"Screech—"

A harsh tearing sound echoed, and a large gap appeared in the thermal film.

Instantly, a white stream of icy air surged in through the opening, and the indoor thermometer plummeted.

-6°C... -8°C... -10°C...

Ethan shivered, pulling my down jacket tighter.

But he still nodded. "Mom's right. This really should come off."