LOGINKen She was breathtaking from the corner of my eye. She sat calmly, eyes on the road, hands folded neatly in her lap. I had taken in her appearance earlier, but even now, it struck me again—Mira was the embodiment of elegance and quiet beauty. She was the only reason I still lingered at Gigs, even though my mission there had already been accomplished. Bernard had been snooping around, eager to know if I had other assignments. The selection process was over. As for me, staying a week or two longer was simply time to cool off. Once I returned to my seat, there would be no leaving. Every trace connecting me to Voughan had been carefully concealed—except with Bernard so I had watched with mild amusement as Mira fantasized about her entry into my company. She called it the 'apex'. I had heard far more sublime descriptions, yet the word fit. Her joy over Voughan knew no bounds. I remembered how Bernard had considered replacing her with her Clara. Seeing how excited Mira was warmed som
Mira An hour had passed since I got home. The wedding had finally come and gone, but my heartbeat raced rapidly, thundering in my ears. Dad is sick. The words echoed louder than any argument we’d ever had. Every ounce of resentment I had for him vanished instantly, replaced by a raw, unfamiliar fear. My chest tightened. Memories of him—his sharp tone, his unyielding rules, his presence that loomed over every corner of my life—flashed like a relentless slideshow. My father—always controlling, imposing, unresponsive. In our family, he ruled without mercy. And now, the thought of him weak, vulnerable, frightened me in a way I hadn’t expected. Adrian’s words played over in my mind. Pneumonia. The doctors claimed it wasn’t severe, but the full diagnosis wouldn’t come for another month. A month. A month felt like a lifetime. My stomach twisted. What if something happened to him before then? What if he worsened while I was busy with my life, oblivious? The questions clawed at me, and
Mira The sound of arguments reached me from the porch. What was it this time? I rang the bell, and the voices went silent. Mother answered, smiling. I was tired of her smiling like things were perfect. I greeted her and walked in. Much to my surprise, Lizzy was there. Why?Adrian hugged me—something I loved. Lizzy stayed still on the chair while my dad remained standing."Hi Lizzy, congratulations.""Thanks," she said without looking at me.I walked closer. "How does it feel being married?""Great.""Being married is bliss, my dear. Besides, Ethan is a great man," my mother chimed in."Lizzy, you'll lend me some marital advice when I need it," Adrian teased."You left without informing me yesterday. You were to stay till the end," my dad started, already angry."I was exhausted and had emails from work.""Work. Is that why you abandoned your family?" He was almost fuming. I held my anger at bay."Darling, don’t be so hard on her," my mother’s pretentious voice cut in. I sat near Lizz
MiraThe ride to the church was peaceful—maybe because no one asked me funny questions, or because I rode with my uncle Gregory and his family. Just as I’d presumed, my parents didn’t approve of my dressing. Mum said it revealed too much, that I was trying to steal the bride’s spotlight. Dad said the fabric looked too expensive and kept probing about how I made money.I didn’t do much—just mild makeup, my hair pulled into a bun with a few strands cascading down to my bosom, and simple jewelry. I had foreseen their reactions.Before we departed, tension brewed between my parents and me, all because of my outfit. When Uncle Gregory arrived with a tie for Dad, I seized the chance to join him. Riding with my parents would have been horrific.As the car moved, I noticed how much the city had changed, but I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it—my heart pounded as we neared the church.I sat on the second pew, and Adrian joined me soon after. We were supposed to sit with our parents in the fr
Mira Standing on the too-familiar porch, I felt nothing—no rush of emotions, no longing, just a faint nerve reminding me I was about to see their faces. Laughter rang out—melodious and free. I heard my mom’s voice, faint but distinct, followed by another burst of laughter. I stood there, bag in hand, wondering how they would receive me. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the doorbell. It was mother’s habit to answer the door, no matter how busy she was. My grip on my bag tightened as I pictured her face. My heart pounded as soft footsteps approached. The glass door swung open, faster than I’d imagined. Nerves kicked in, and I wished the ground would swallow me whole. She stepped out, one hand on the frame, the other hanging loosely by her side. My feet stayed rooted; words failed me. She was exactly as I remembered—still beautiful, barely aged, just a little plumper. Her gray joggers and green T-shirt made her seem taller somehow. Her face shifted from surprise to a warm smile, one th
Mira The long-awaited day had arrived. Friday—the day I would see my family after years. The thought felt like torment: to finally face them, especially my grown-up siblings. Time was running faster than I wanted; in a few hours I’d be standing on my parents’ porch. Laura would book a hotel while I stayed at my parents’; if I sensed I wasn’t welcome, I’d decamp. Perfect plan. I wasn’t going to try fitting in if they weren’t accommodating. Work came first. Voughan was set for next week and I had projects to wrap. To me now, Gigs building had lost its lustre—or maybe it never had any. I exchanged pleasantries with the receptionist, still congratulating me, when clapping and the click of heels announced Sarah. I smiled. The fool was digging her own grave. “You don’t bother about work anymore.” She planted a hand on her hip, the other on the desk. I didn’t respond and she took the bait. “You spend time with Elen instead of facing your designs. You were always serious—what happened?” I







