Six a.m. Struggling outta bed was an effort. I felt drained of all of my vital fluids, like a dry husk that the Santa Elena Bay zephyrs would just blow away. But I was gonna do this. Will and me.
"Hey," I whispered into the musky warmth of Will's room. He was asleep on his front, the pillow on the floor. "It's six a.m. Let's go train."
He snuggled deeper into bed, defeated. "I can't today, Zeph."
"I know it's hard. But you gotta stay strong, remember? You can't get sick."
He closed his eyes. "She's gone, Zeph. There's nobody to stay strong for now."
"Then stay strong for me until I get home," I said hopefully. "Come on. Let's go train."
After brief sounds of shuffling and his closet door banging, Will emerged from his room.
He just wanted to run, a long twisted loop through the dappled shade of the forest as the sun climbed. I'd expected his pace to be slow, but his feet pounded the forest paths like he was trying to outrun his pain. He broke down in tears as we emerged outta the trees onto Santa Elena Beach, and retreated into his bedroom while I reluctantly gave my first piano lesson of the day.
Will hid all morning until my students left, then crept into the living room while I practiced scales in the sunroom, separating himself from me by glass doors like solitude was eating away at him, but being close to anyone hurt too much.
By the time we had lunch he looked unkempt and half-dead with tiredness, pushing rice around his plate in silence.
"Hey, you don't have to eat it," I murmured.
His eyes swam with new tears. "I'm sorry."
"Cry if you wanna."
Why was he trying not to cry? He'd just lost the star he'd been orbiting for the past sixteen years. He was totally alone. I wanted him to cry. I wanted him to wail and rant and scream through the worst week of his life. Just like I'd done when Abba had been taken from me.
"Are my piano lessons disturbing you? I can cancel them all week if you want."
"No, I like listening to you play. I just don't wanna...do anything." It was a start. I'd play piano for hours if it would soothe him even a little.
"Gloria's coming over with dinner, then I can practice all evening if you wanna listen?"
A tiny smile flitted across his lips.
Courage, Will.
Then, my stupid phone rang. Charlotte Graz. I trudged to the living room to pick up the call, determined to shield Will from any more pain.
"What's up, Charlotte?" I sighed, wishing she'd take the hint and leave us alone for a few days.
"I'm so, so sorry to...hear the news. Can I...give Will my sympathies?" We hadn't told her about Mozhgan. How could she have found out?
Fucking lawyers.
"How did you..? Oh yeah, the Newsletter."
"It's such sad news. Is it...not a good time to talk to Will?"
I could kinda see where she was coming from. She wanted to show that she was thinking about Will in his grief. But it was all too soon.
"He's not ready. Maybe in a couple of days."
"Is there a date for the funeral yet? Would he mind if I came?"
"Charlotte, we only lost her yesterday morning. Will's really bad, OK? I'll call you in a few days or something."
YOU ARE READING
The Sigma Asset 🏳️🌈 (bxb)║AMBYS WINNER 2022
Mystery / Thriller**AMBYS 2022 WINNER** He'll never play piano again. That's what virtuoso pianist Zephyr has vowed to himself after escaping Sigma, the sprawling criminal organisation that once held him--and still holds his friends--captive in California's mega-city...
