Morozov

Chapter 18

(Note: This chapter contains depressing and triggering topics, especially if you lost someone to death recently. Proceed with caution or read when you're feeling better.)

"I'm so happy you could make it," mom said for the hundredth time as dinner was served.
I didn't want to attend the Christmas dinner. But after Niveen told me that she'd been poisoning our father the past few months, I had to come.

I smiled politely at my mother before my gaze shifted over to my sister's victim once again.
She did a great job, I had to give her that.

Father looked old. There was nothing left of the beer belly he had when I moved out. Instead, his skin was saggy, especially on his face, and his fingers were so thin, his rings hung loosely around the bones.

More brown spots accompanied the ones I'd noticed the last time I saw him. His veins were darker and popping because of how skinny he was and don't even get me started on how yellow his eyes and his skin tone were. It was horrible seeing him like this.

This man was -literally- slowly dying from the inside out.

"I'm also glad you're back, Niveen," our mother continued.
That was another indicator of just how bad father was. Normally, he would've gone nuts and thrown hands.
He said nothing.

Ace must've seen the worry in my eyes because he grabbed my hand under the desk, squeezing reassuringly and making me look at him.
His head dipped just the slightest. Even if someone saw it, they wouldn't have understood what it meant.
Not if their names weren't Mallory or Niveen.

I've pondered a lot the past night. It's safe to say I had a total of two hours of sleep.
But when I woke up, I knew what I had to do. Even if it was cruel and horrible, Niveen's mistake had to be corrected.
And I knew exactly how we'd do that.

"So," I started. "Dad. How's it going?" Unsurprisingly that didn't quite work to lift the mood. To be more specific, he said nothing as we looked at each other and I waited for an answer.

"Mallory, he can't talk," Marvolo said through a half closed mouth, glancing toward my father for a split second.
Even then, when he wasn't a threat at all anymore, his presence still had an affect on all of us.
It was as if we all just waited for him to get up and make his next move.

"What so I can't even talk to him?" I asked in a demanding tone.
"He can hear everything you're saying but he's too weak to talk," Filip answered.

Later that night, after dinner and exchanging the presents, when everyone was watching TV or talking to each other, I decided it was time.

"I'll go to the bathroom real quick," I announced as I got up from the armchair I was sitting in.
Ace looked at me with questioning eyes but they quickly got deeper when I confirmed with a stern look and a curt nod.

He leaned back, looking as though he was struggling with something. I told him to let Niveen and me deal with it and just stay in the living room to distract my family.
Especially Filip was tempted to spend every second of the evening with me.

But he couldn't. I thought it best not to tell anyone except for Ace what we'd do and what exactly was the cause of father's illness.

Keeping my spine straight and my head high, I made my way out of the living room and toward my father's office.
Mom had it turned into his private hospital room, either because she couldn't stand his illness or him in general anymore.

I formed fists to stop my hands from shaking and squeezed so hard, my knuckles turned white. Muscles tense, I approached the door and soon after that, was accompanied by my little sister.