The hospital looked the same, the nurses running about, the doctors casually greeting each other as they passed from room to room, the cheerful orderlies pushing past carts of dirty linens. I wove in between them all, an urgency pushing me forward that caused me to trip several times, run into a few nurses, and stumble over nothing. I couldn’t get there fast enough; it was as if I was wading through molasses, through water, through anything thicker than air. My body wouldn’t respond correctly, instead, my brain just replayed what I’d heard in Cerise’s voice.

He’s dead

My breath came faster and faster, yet shallow. I couldn’t get enough of the air around me. She couldn’t have been right, I must have misheard her. There was no way this was true, it had to be a mistake. Maybe he was just in surgery, maybe he had some issue, but it was impossible that he was dead. Right?

You have to come

I stumbled through the hallways, each twist and turn feeling as if it took eternity to pass, though I knew it should only be a handful of minutes to walk there from the entrance. Everyone gave me strange looks as I passed, though I barely noticed them. The ones I did register, I didn’t acknowledge. They had no reason to question me, an orphan.

I made it to his room. All the general business of the hospital had slowed to a halt, as if the space surrounding these four walls were paused in time. The dust floated in the air, something I never noticed before. It was almost beautiful as it hung in the air ethereally, the light catching it like snow. I stood there, at the threshold, unable to take the next steps.

I couldn’t look inside. His bed was just out of sight, courtesy of the privacy curtain. It both angered me and pleased me, that I did not know what I would see. It would almost be worse to know, I thought. Though this uncertainty was bound to kill me as well. Cerise had said he was dead - so what was I waiting for? I knew what I would ultimately find.

I stepped forward.

The bed was empty, still, the sheets rumpled and out of place, as if he had just gotten up. He could’ve been in the bathroom, or down the hall, walking the pass with the nurses for help as he was often encouraged to do. His absence in the room was palpable, but it felt… temporary. I couldn’t place why. Probably because I hadn’t seen him yet. I didn’t want to. But I did. I had to know, had to see with my own eyes, otherwise, he was just gone. Missing. On a vacation, out for a stroll, stepped out for a bit.

I approached the bed. I didn’t know what was happening to me, was this real? Was I experiencing this? I turned around and sat down on the bed, smoothing the covers with my hands. My palms felt the cold sheets; however long he’d been gone, it was long enough for the heat to dissipate from this bed. Numb, I stared onwards, occasionally remembering to blink.

“Torven?” came a soft voice from somewhere near the doorway.

I blinked, my eyes dry and painful. How long had I been sitting there, staring at nothing? I couldn’t form words. My tongue was stuck to my mouth, and I was caught by surprise. Who was that?

“It’s me, Alyss,” said the voice.

The body attached to it slid through the doorway, edging the wall. She didn’t want to intrude, it was clear in her body language. Also, I’d entirely forgotten that she’d come along. Everything that had happened since the WaComm call was a bit of a blur.

Remembering what had happened, I realized I hadn’t seen cerise. Alyss was still here, but Cerise was nowhere to be found. Where was she? Was she with him?

Alyss approached me, concern and pity in her eyes. It stung, but I could barely process enough to think poorly about it. I would have to deal with what others thought of me later. For now, I was struggling to handle the present and myself. For instance, I’d entirely forgotten how to breathe.

The air came in strangled pants, my eyes widening. Then, Alyss’ calm fingers brushed my back, soothing, relaxing, grounding me. Slowly, the breath came easier, the air no longer choking me. She had single handedly taken down whatever monster had a hold of my lungs for the moment. I couldn’t look at her.

Instead, I stared down at my feet.

Next to them, something glinted. A… WaComm? I leaned over to pick it up.

It was locked, so I couldn’t see what it had been doing, but it was obviously my father’s WaComm. I recognized it immediately; he had it on him constantly, always communicating with someone from work, or something. What was it doing on the floor, open like that? Had he been using it?

A chill shuddered through my intestines. Had someone told him something he shouldn’t hear that would antagonize his heart?

Had he learned of my refusal of AUT?

Where was Cerise?

There were too many questions for me to answer right now. I tucked my father’s WaComm into my pocket, a problem for another day, when my brain was less overloaded. Alyss continued her soothing circles on my back, her fingers barely touching me. It was calming, relaxing. My eyes blinked slower and slower.

Was she about to hypnotize me to sleep? I jerked forward, causing her to jump as well, a reaction I instantly felt guilty for. That, and guilty for everything else. I felt, dedep down to my core, that my father’s apparent death was my fault.

Unless.

I still hadn’t found Cerise. Was she with him now, or was she avoiding this? Was it possible she had a hand in it? Aside from AUT themselves, she was the only other person who knew about my deal with Aruga Tech and how I’d refused their help, effectively tanking my father’s dream for me. Had she staged a call for him to find out, knowing it would be detrimental to his health? Was life with him really so horrible that she had to take matters into her own hands?

It was the only explanation that made sense. She had told me as much herself that marrying my father wasn’t her first choice, or any choice. She’d called it a sacrifice, even. Maybe she’d reached her breaking point. I grit my teeth, suddenly feeling the weight of my father’s WaComm in my pocket. It was the only evidence I even had, to either confirm or deny this theory.

It had to be somebody’s fault, and if it wasn’t her fault? Then it was mine.