Time slows.Bethany’s fingers brush the handle of the driver’s side door just as the second beep-beep fades into the air. A bird chirps from the lamp post above the lot. The wheels of a nearby shopping cart squeal as someone exits the pharmacy across the road. Arthur opens his mouth to say something…And the world erupts.BOOM.It’s not just a noise., it’s a force. A living, monstrous thing that tears through air, glass, and metal like paper. The car explodes in a big explosion of fire and shrapnel, its roof splitting, hurling into the sky. The windshield vaporizes in a white hot flash and for the person standing right next to the explosion...Bethany is thrown violently backward. Not a stumble. Not a fall. She is launched into the air like a ragdoll and what goes up, always comes down.Her body hits the ground very hard. The sound is sickening, skin on pavement, ribs crunching, skull cracking and the audible sound of all of it.Then stillness.Alarms scream in every direction. The
The fourth day in the hospital after the blast seemed just as bleak as the first three days that had come and gone, waiting for Bethany to wake up and open her eyes to absolutely no avail.Arthur hasn’t left her side. Not once, making sure to make sure that she is attended to every single time and cleaning her unconscious body every morning and night.The nurses have stopped trying to convince him to take a break and go home or something. At this point, he’s more permanent than the IV drip standing by her bedside. Martha comes and goes, bringing fresh clothes, home cooked meals that Arthur barely touches, whispered encouragements he barely hears but nods smilingly at anyway, the old woman already has too much on her neck so Arthur always manages to persuade her to go back home as well each time.He sits beside her now, as he has for four days, one hand curled over Bethany’s motionless fingers, holding them as though he is using his body’s warmth to remind her of the way back to him, b
The hallway is dim and seemingly never ending. Just like is her job to do this once in a while, she is going to do it once again before clocking out of work for the day.Ana Yang walks briskly down the sterile, silver lit corridor of Unique Auditing’s private floor. Her heels click sharply against the marble tile, echoing between the glass walls and chrome doors, ignoring everyone she meets on her way since she has one single focus in mind, do this and get the hell out of here.She clutches a thick folder to her chest, filled with updates, invoices, coded communications. The usual weapons of their currently losing war, she’ll be dropping off the file with the ceo before leaving.Ahead of her, the double doors to the CEO's office loom like the gates of some modern day hell.She swipes her keycard.The lock clicks and the doors swing open.Inside, the room is dim, only thin shafts of light cutting across the floor from narrow windows.And, as always, the swivel chair behind the vast mah
It takes about an hour.One long, slow, silent hour between the couple.Bethany stubbornly keeps her back turned toward Arthur, stewing in her own complicated swirl of already fake anger and her pride not wanting to speak first.Bethany tries.God, she tries to stay mad at him but...For a full hour, she gives Arthur the full on, patented silent treatment, staring stubbornly at the wall on the other side of thr bed, answering in one word grunts if he so much as breathes too loudly so he’ll catch himself from disturbing her ‘sleep’.But she’s very terrible at it.She’s always been terrible at it when it came to people she loved.She cracks before the sixty minute mark, because when she finally turns her head, awkwardly and carefully because of the neck brace, she sees him sitting at the very edge of her hospital bed.Not looking at her.Not doing anything visible to her.Just… sitting there by the bedside.Palms flat on the mattress. Head bowed.Like he’s waiting to be sentenced. He do
He steps out of the car and closes the door behind him, Bethany is at home now and he just needs to stop by somewhere to make his point known, now that he knows who it is and his wife now does too, there is nothing to hide but to tell her to own up to her crimes and mistakes and just leave them be.Arthur Worth steps out of the sleek black elevator on the top floor and into hell, the dim lighting down the hall, the glass doors that do not reflect anything, looks like a child’s imagination of the opposite of heaven.The top floor of the glass building is colder than a morgue, the air conditioning in strategic positions not exactly helping either. Polished concrete floors. Steel framed windows. Air that smells faintly metallic, Ew.The place seems a little bit deserted and a little bit too silent for this mid afternoon period where staffs are supposed to be wandering around, talking and gossiping over cups of coffee and snacks, waiting for the time they can head for home.Ahead, the gla
The Campbell Conglomerate headquarters is as full as it always is during the days of the week, and the staff are pretty loyal even when their boss has not been in to work for quite some time. The rumor has start to spread that she died or something most especially due to the fact that they had seen as she had been flung into the air two weeks before, had watched as her husband, with bruises of his own, had lifted her off the ground into the ambulance by himself and still making sure that everything, about her, was all in control…For the time she had been at the hospital, Arthur had made sure that Jade was always within reach and every of their works in progress, not out of reach, it had all been in control even when he had been devastated at the foot of her bed.And for it being so early in the morning, it is not silent, it is quite the opposite actually.There’s movement everywhere, in the halls and corners. Phones ringing and staff picking up. Meetings booked not minding that the b
The invitation arrives in a black velvet envelope.No name. No logo. Just a gold wax seal marked with a wolf’s head.Bethany turns it over twice before she slits it open with a knife and slides the lacy edged card out.It reads,“The Campbell Conglomerate is cordially invited to the Sterling Foundation’s Annual Black-Tie Gala.Theme: Midnight Masquerade.Date: This Saturday, 8 PM.Location: The Glass House, Midtown.Dress Code: Formal. Masks mandatory.Life’s a game, play it.”Bethany does not react for a second, and then reads it again… “This is either someone’s idea of a costume party or a shoddy job at making an actual party.”Arthur reads it as well, over her shoulder and frowns, not even the flicker of a smile either. “That’s not real.”“Oh, it is real,” Bethany murmurs. “And it’s bait. It is so obviously so… Sterling Foundation.”Arthur’s jaw tightens. “So we’re not going, it’s that simple.”Bethany turns slowly to face him, eyes clear and determination firm. “I do not run from
"There is absolutely nothing you this bitch can do appropriately!" Quinn yells as she flings the steaming mug of coffee away from her.The hot liquid spills sideways and scalds Bethany who jumps back but it's a little too late as the bulk of it had landed on the back of her hand. She immediately turns to get it under some cold water but she's immediately stopped by Quinn's incredulous gasp."You want to walk out on me?" She half yells shrilly so as to attract attention from the rest of the family. "Just because I politely told you that the coffee is too bitter, you want to walk out on me?" Her voice takes on a slight faltering to show that it's filled with emotions.Fake emotions.Bethany immediately shakes her head. "Of course not, the hot coffee spilled on me and I'm going to wash it off..."There's a clatter of footsteps behind her and Bethany turns around to see Daisy and John Worth, her in-laws, as they come downstairs to see what all the commotion is all about."Mum... Dad..." Q
The invitation arrives in a black velvet envelope.No name. No logo. Just a gold wax seal marked with a wolf’s head.Bethany turns it over twice before she slits it open with a knife and slides the lacy edged card out.It reads,“The Campbell Conglomerate is cordially invited to the Sterling Foundation’s Annual Black-Tie Gala.Theme: Midnight Masquerade.Date: This Saturday, 8 PM.Location: The Glass House, Midtown.Dress Code: Formal. Masks mandatory.Life’s a game, play it.”Bethany does not react for a second, and then reads it again… “This is either someone’s idea of a costume party or a shoddy job at making an actual party.”Arthur reads it as well, over her shoulder and frowns, not even the flicker of a smile either. “That’s not real.”“Oh, it is real,” Bethany murmurs. “And it’s bait. It is so obviously so… Sterling Foundation.”Arthur’s jaw tightens. “So we’re not going, it’s that simple.”Bethany turns slowly to face him, eyes clear and determination firm. “I do not run from
The Campbell Conglomerate headquarters is as full as it always is during the days of the week, and the staff are pretty loyal even when their boss has not been in to work for quite some time. The rumor has start to spread that she died or something most especially due to the fact that they had seen as she had been flung into the air two weeks before, had watched as her husband, with bruises of his own, had lifted her off the ground into the ambulance by himself and still making sure that everything, about her, was all in control…For the time she had been at the hospital, Arthur had made sure that Jade was always within reach and every of their works in progress, not out of reach, it had all been in control even when he had been devastated at the foot of her bed.And for it being so early in the morning, it is not silent, it is quite the opposite actually.There’s movement everywhere, in the halls and corners. Phones ringing and staff picking up. Meetings booked not minding that the b
He steps out of the car and closes the door behind him, Bethany is at home now and he just needs to stop by somewhere to make his point known, now that he knows who it is and his wife now does too, there is nothing to hide but to tell her to own up to her crimes and mistakes and just leave them be.Arthur Worth steps out of the sleek black elevator on the top floor and into hell, the dim lighting down the hall, the glass doors that do not reflect anything, looks like a child’s imagination of the opposite of heaven.The top floor of the glass building is colder than a morgue, the air conditioning in strategic positions not exactly helping either. Polished concrete floors. Steel framed windows. Air that smells faintly metallic, Ew.The place seems a little bit deserted and a little bit too silent for this mid afternoon period where staffs are supposed to be wandering around, talking and gossiping over cups of coffee and snacks, waiting for the time they can head for home.Ahead, the gla
It takes about an hour.One long, slow, silent hour between the couple.Bethany stubbornly keeps her back turned toward Arthur, stewing in her own complicated swirl of already fake anger and her pride not wanting to speak first.Bethany tries.God, she tries to stay mad at him but...For a full hour, she gives Arthur the full on, patented silent treatment, staring stubbornly at the wall on the other side of thr bed, answering in one word grunts if he so much as breathes too loudly so he’ll catch himself from disturbing her ‘sleep’.But she’s very terrible at it.She’s always been terrible at it when it came to people she loved.She cracks before the sixty minute mark, because when she finally turns her head, awkwardly and carefully because of the neck brace, she sees him sitting at the very edge of her hospital bed.Not looking at her.Not doing anything visible to her.Just… sitting there by the bedside.Palms flat on the mattress. Head bowed.Like he’s waiting to be sentenced. He do
The hallway is dim and seemingly never ending. Just like is her job to do this once in a while, she is going to do it once again before clocking out of work for the day.Ana Yang walks briskly down the sterile, silver lit corridor of Unique Auditing’s private floor. Her heels click sharply against the marble tile, echoing between the glass walls and chrome doors, ignoring everyone she meets on her way since she has one single focus in mind, do this and get the hell out of here.She clutches a thick folder to her chest, filled with updates, invoices, coded communications. The usual weapons of their currently losing war, she’ll be dropping off the file with the ceo before leaving.Ahead of her, the double doors to the CEO's office loom like the gates of some modern day hell.She swipes her keycard.The lock clicks and the doors swing open.Inside, the room is dim, only thin shafts of light cutting across the floor from narrow windows.And, as always, the swivel chair behind the vast mah
The fourth day in the hospital after the blast seemed just as bleak as the first three days that had come and gone, waiting for Bethany to wake up and open her eyes to absolutely no avail.Arthur hasn’t left her side. Not once, making sure to make sure that she is attended to every single time and cleaning her unconscious body every morning and night.The nurses have stopped trying to convince him to take a break and go home or something. At this point, he’s more permanent than the IV drip standing by her bedside. Martha comes and goes, bringing fresh clothes, home cooked meals that Arthur barely touches, whispered encouragements he barely hears but nods smilingly at anyway, the old woman already has too much on her neck so Arthur always manages to persuade her to go back home as well each time.He sits beside her now, as he has for four days, one hand curled over Bethany’s motionless fingers, holding them as though he is using his body’s warmth to remind her of the way back to him, b
Time slows.Bethany’s fingers brush the handle of the driver’s side door just as the second beep-beep fades into the air. A bird chirps from the lamp post above the lot. The wheels of a nearby shopping cart squeal as someone exits the pharmacy across the road. Arthur opens his mouth to say something…And the world erupts.BOOM.It’s not just a noise., it’s a force. A living, monstrous thing that tears through air, glass, and metal like paper. The car explodes in a big explosion of fire and shrapnel, its roof splitting, hurling into the sky. The windshield vaporizes in a white hot flash and for the person standing right next to the explosion...Bethany is thrown violently backward. Not a stumble. Not a fall. She is launched into the air like a ragdoll and what goes up, always comes down.Her body hits the ground very hard. The sound is sickening, skin on pavement, ribs crunching, skull cracking and the audible sound of all of it.Then stillness.Alarms scream in every direction. The
The man walks in front of the station like he’s trying not to walk into a landmine, slow, tentative steps. He stops at the top of the stairs, takes one deep sigh, rubs his weak looking eyes and takes the few more steps into the building.He does not take big strides and no waving hands. Just quiet, precise steps through the front doors of the Precinct, wearing a weather beaten hoodie and jeans that have seen better years. His eyes are the kind that don’t blink enough, too haunted to remember how.Or at least that is what it looks like to whoever cares to give him a glance.At the front desk, Officer Laney gives him the once over. She’s halfway through sipping her third iced latte when she asks, “Can I help you sir?”The man doesn’t answer at first, first choosing to check if she is a police officer since she is in civilian clothes, then seeing her badge in her hands, he sighs audibly before responding, saying…“I need to talk to someone. Someone in charge of a particular case here.”L
Rumors begin less than three days later.Apparently, grabbing a cup of coffee with a beautiful female Major is grounds for rumors, and even people whom you don’t know who begin to study your every move. The rumors, with truths in them however, rage on the barracks.They spread like heat on dry bush. Fast, wild and pretty much unstoppable. A Major seen sneaking smiles at a Lieutenant during drills, the same Lieutenant caught slipping out of the officer's quarters too early in the morning.Chara doesn’t as much as flinch when she hears then, she’s pretty much used to the weight of judgment.Chara doesn’t pretend to care, not at all.She keeps her chin high, her stride sharp like the boss lady that she is, like no one dares say it to her face, because they really do not dare say it to her face.But Mason hears it.He hears them and unlike Chara with her own steely indifference, he is not indifferent to it.And it gets harder to ignore, mostly because it is not all about him but her.Mason