before the twins became ill.
A basement renovation.
Waterproofing.
New wall treatment.
“What am I looking at?”
“The product.”
He pointed.
Commercial sealant.
Solvent-based.
Applied beneath the east wing.
Directly below the boys’ rooms.
My stomach tightened.
“Could that smell travel upstairs?”
“Maybe through old chases.”
“Why wasn’t it in the environmental report?”
“The basement was excluded because air samples were normal after shutdown.”
“Did anyone test building materials?”
“No.”
I stared.
Another possible layer.
“Show Maya.”
“Already did.”
Good.
She ordered material testing.
The sealant contained a solvent that could off-gas for months if incorrectly mixed.
The contractor had documented an application problem.
A batch cured slowly.
It had supposedly been removed.
But not all of it.
A section remained behind finished walls.
Would that explain two years of illness?
Probably not alone.
But combined with poor ventilation, ozone, fragrance concentrate?
Maya called it:
“An exposure stack.”
That phrase
harm.
Again.
Nathan looked suddenly tired.
“My brother rushed construction for a party.”
“Yes.”
“And years later that might have contributed.”
Maya said:
“Possibly.”
“Not certainty.”
“No.”
Nathan rubbed his face.
“Everyone in my family loved shortcuts.”
No one answered.
Then Thomas handed him another page.
“There’s more.”
I almost laughed.
Of course.
Michael had written an email to Catherine:
I know you hate the smell. Contractor says sealed wall is fine. I’ll redo it after the party.
Catherine replied:
Please do. Jacob has been coughing at night.
The email was dated twenty-six months before the boys’ illness became officially documented.
Nathan stared.
“Jacob was already coughing?”
Mrs. Bennett looked shocked.
“I don’t remember.”
Nathan looked toward the medical files.
Neither did he.
Maybe the illness had not started where everyone thought.
Maybe early symptoms had been dismissed.
Maybe Catherine had noticed first.
Nathan whispered:
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
