The thirteen-year-old girl, wearing a red dress at the New Year’s party. “Eat ptichye moloko. It’s my favorite. You’ll love it.”
The fourteen-year-old girl, sitting beside me at a wedding. “I don’t like diamonds. I don’t understand what people like so much about them. It’s just glass with fancy physics.”
The fifteen-year-old girl, in a video message, pouting slightly. “I drank a lot of cinnamon tea, and look, I have pimples now. You should’ve told me how much one is allowed to drink.”
And then there were no more shy smiles. She had become a woman from that sunshine girl. I had my own sun, but I made it lose its shine. I made it cold, like the moon.And now… I don’t even have that moon.
A tear rolls down from the corner of my eye.
Iselyn
My phone rings in the back pocket of my work pants. I remove my gloves and pull it out. Wen is calling.
I pick it up. “Hello?”
“Hey,” she sounds off.
“What happened?”
“Leo… I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want to push you into making any decision. But now the water has gone above the head.”
I frown and sit on the bench in the garden where I was working. “What is it about?”
“He’s neither sleeping nor eating properly. I don’t know when he even sleeps. Till 2–3 a.m., he works in his study, then gets up before 6 and leaves for the office at 7.”
My frown deepens. My lungs tighten, and I take conscious deep breaths. “It’s very harmful for his health.”
“I know. And I talked with him, but he just brushes me off and goes to his study. I swear, Lyn, I’m very afraid. He looks so exhausted.”
“I… I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay,” she sighs.
I cut the call and immediately dial Matleon’s number. He doesn’t pick. I call again—no answer. My gut clenches on thethird call. My hands turn sweaty and cold. He doesn’t pick the fourth call either.
I call back Wen with shaky hands. Bad thoughts fill my mind, pressing my heart lower in panic. “He’s not picking up my calls.”
“Wait, let me check,” she says urgently.
I tap my feet on the ground repeatedly.
“He’s not in his study,” she sounds worried. My fear fuels her worry.
“He’s here… in his room… collapsed on the bed.”
“Leo. Leo.” Her voice breaks, distinct and sharp. “Wake up, Leo!”
She brings the phone close to her face, her voice clear and trembling with panic. “He’s unconscious.”
The phone almost slips from my shaking hands. My voice is lost in the void.
“Let me call Zo—” She cuts the call.
I lower the phone and stare at it, my head feeling light. My whole body is trembling. Something has happened to him.
Tears roll down onto the phone.
It rings again. I wipe the screen on my pants and pick up Wen’s call.
