Chapter Two

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I DIDN’T NOTICE Aunt Shirley return from the grocery store. I was sobbing hysterically when she saw me but we were the only ones in the waiting room, so it was okay to cry here.

   She sat on the plastic bench beside me, dropping the paper bags she was carrying. I couldn’t see her reaction, but I am certain she’s worried.

   “Where’s your father? Did something happen?” she asked hurriedly.

   I just cried louder. I couldn’t answer her question even if I wanted to. My trousers were now soaked in tears, and yet it wouldn’t stop. I glanced at the room my father was in. My vision is blurry with tears, and from what I can remember, my glasses are sprawled somewhere on the floor.

   I can see a silhouette of someone emerging from the double-doors. As it drew closer, it started to speak, and I can barely hear what it was saying.

   “. . . so sorry. We did everything we can. His body couldn’t take the force of the. . .”

   The last thing I heard was Aunt Shirley’s cries of agony before my eyes snapped closed. I slowly felt the air leaving me as I hit the cold, tiled floor.

———█———

“. . . told her already?”


   “Please. . . Not now. She was undergoing a lot of stress.”

   “Has John told her, already?

   “Will you at least consider the child’s situation? It wasn’t important right no—”

   “It was important, Shirley. She is the one who’s going to be wed next week. Don’t you understand? It’ll be easier for her if you explain the information earlier.”

   I woke up with a throbbing head, and an aching body. When I heard the voices of Aunt Shirley and Aunt Linda, I let my eyes close, listening.

   “I’ve no idea if—”

   “Why don’t we tell her now? She’s awake.”

   I groaned internally, opening my eyes. I feel like the world is spinning and I’m hanging from the end of a thin mast. They were looking down at me like they’re expecting me to say something. Finally, Aunt Shirley spoke.

   “How’re you feeling, sweetheart?”

   “Like my head is going to burst open.”

   “Fair enough. You passed out on the waiting area. That’s the least that could’ve happened to you,” said Aunt Linda. She glanced at Aunt Shirley and they shared a remorseful look.

   “Your father. . . John, he’s— Margo, we’re very sorry—” Aunt Shirley started.

   “I know.”

   And that’s the last thing that I said until the day of my Dad’s funeral.

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