On the desk sat a framed photo, a little piece of the past captured in a polaroid, showing two girls laughing freely. One bore a slight resemblance to Nathan, while the other seemed like a blend of Sophie and the receptionist.
“This must be Young Mr. Harrison’s loved ones,” they thought in unison.
“Sit down,” Nathan said, returning from a dinner meeting, the scent of wine lingering around him. He frowned slightly as he settled onto the couch. “If you’re ready to join us, head to the front desk and complete the paperwork. Someone will guide you through your new role. Your salary will be on a probationary basis. If you agree, you can sign the contract.”
For the past three years, whenever Nathan saw someone who looked even remotely like Tia Clark, he would make sure to keep them close.
He never laid a hand on these women. Father Benedict had once told him that as long as he practiced kindness, abstained from desires, and prayed day and night for the soul he missed, he could ensure her a peaceful journey in the afterlife, a smooth reincarnation.
Nathan had done just that.
He kept these girls around, as if through their somewhat similar faces, he could see Tia Clark living beside him once more. It was as though doing so would keep the nightmares at bay, allow him a night of restful sleep.
Nathan wasn’t aware of the rumors swirling outside, nor was he particularly interested.
Ever since the day Tia Clark passed away beneath a clear blue sky, the sun in Kingsbury City had never shone as brightly again. The sun remained hidden behind the clouds, and a perpetual haze seemed to envelop the city, casting a gray shadow over everything.
Every breath felt like drowning, each moment a struggle for air.
Simon’s bloodshot eyes were still fresh in Nathan’s memory, like a red warning light hanging above his head, scrutinizing his every move. Over the past three years, he had dreamt many dreams–of Victoria weeping and asking, “Why didn’t you save me, brother?” and of Tia Clark floating, bloated, on the water, smiling and wishing him “Happy wedding, wish you happiness.”
Regret and anguish burned through his days and nights like a relentless flame. Nathan couldn’t sleep; he lit a cigarette, standing by the window.
Was there still a light on in the world that belonged to him?
Estranged from his parents and divorced from Sylvia, Nathan had nowhere else to go. He returned to the small apartment he had bought when he was with Tia Clark. Back then, he was still in school, with little money, and could only afford this tiny place. Victoria would occasionally stay over.
Those were his happiest, most carefree days.
The apartment remained unchanged. It seemed that with just a glance, Tia Clark would reappear beside him, playfully snatching away his cigarette and saying, “No more smoking!” And Victoria would exaggerate, snapping a photo and warning, “Brother, if you smoke again, I’ll tell Mom and Dad!”
Now, there was nothing beside him. The two most important women in his life had both left him.
The cigarette burned down to the filter, scorching Nathan back to reality. But he didn’t rush to put it out, letting the ember leave a red mark on his skin.
The phone rang, the caller at this hour could only be one person.
“Are you okay?” The woman’s voice was gentle, like the first bud of spring, “Your last check–up was three months ago. You should be done by now.”
“Yeah,” Nathan mumbled, crushing the cigarette butt, “Let’s schedule for tomorrow afternoon.”
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Chapter 13
“I figured you weren’t sleeping. Are you out of sleeping pills?”
“Yes, could you prescribe a bit more next time?”
“Nathan,” Yvonne said softly, “Do you remember your previous suicide attempt? I can’t give you more than the usual dosage. You need more than just sleeping pills. Make sure you come by tomorrow afternoon.”
After hanging up, Nathan sighed helplessly. He rinsed his mouth, unfastened his watch, revealing a jagged scar underneath.
“Goodnight,” he murmured to the empty room, “Goodnight, Tia Clark, Goodnight, Victoria.”
But sleep eluded him, and in the darkness, he saw the swollen face of a woman kneeling by his bedside, her eyes dark, streaming with tears of blood.
“Nathan,” the apparition spoke in Tia Clark’s voice, “Why don’t you look at me? Why did you give me alcohol knowing I had stomach cancer? Why? You wanted to kill me, didn’t you, to bury me alongside your sister?”
“Yes,” Nathan replied, unwavering, without a trace of fear, “I’m sorry, Tia Clark.”
Hands clamped around his neck, and Nathan felt his breath being stolen away. His cheeks flushed, yet he smiled.
“Tia Clark, kill me,” he gasped, “Only then can I atone for my sins against you both.”
The marks on his neck were unmistakable. Yvonne needed only one look to recognize them as signs of Nathan’s unconscious self–harm.
After his suicide attempt, he had been admitted to the hospital under strict observation, with everything potentially harmful removed from his room. Yvonne happened to be his attending physician.
He was her first patient. Though she had already done her rounds that night, a sense of unease led her to Nathan’s room.
It was midnight. Nathan wasn’t in bed but was sitting in the bathroom corner, repeatedly scraping his wrist with the shards of a broken showerhead. The blunt plastic had managed to cut through flesh.
Afterward, Nathan became a priority for the hospital, monitored 24/7. A camera was installed above, leaving him no means for another attempt. Until Yvonne, while routinely checking the footage, saw him with his eyes closed, hands around his own throat.
Though it wouldn’t kill him–he’d naturally release his grip once he fainted from lack of oxygen–Yvonne was terrified, unable to let Nathan out of her sight.
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Chapter 14
