Chapter 9: The Cold Room

The Toledo cold room was the size of a gymnasium, and it was kept at minus ten.

At ten that night the loading floor was empty, and the compressors were the only sound.

I wore my father's insulated coat from the hook by the door.

Nolan wore his own, with the collar up.

We walked the aisles between towers of frozen pallets, with the white breath of two people who didn't know how to talk.

"Row nine holds the hospital contracts," Nolan said.

"Vaccines, blood products.

If those trucks stop, a county goes without."

"And Colm would have kept them?"

"He'd have kept the profit and sold the contracts."

I touched a pallet wrap.

It was stiff as glass.

"My father used to take me here when I was a girl," I said.

"He'd put me on a pallet jack and drive me around in circles.

He'd say, 'This is what keeps people alive.'"

"I know," Nolan said.

"I heard him say it to new hires."

"You were one of them."

"I was." He gave a short laugh.

"I hated how much I liked him."

We reached the end of the aisle, where a steel door led to the back storage.

"Row twelve is the oldest stock," he said.

"Come on, you should see it."

The door was heavy.

He held it for me, and I stepped through into a narrow room lined with shelves.

It was smaller, colder, and quieter.

The door swung shut behind us with a deep metal thud.

Keep reading free with an account. Start The Lies Behind Her Marriage from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.