Tragedy

A maid stepped into the hallway, at the same moment as I had my hand on the bedroom door’s lock. 

It seemed she had been headed to one of the other bedrooms on this floor.

She smiled, and bowed, and I found myself smiling back. Apart from my chef, I doubted I have had any staff smile at me. 

It made me feel warm as I opened the door and walked into the bedroom.

I closed the door behind me, and stood still, both hands holding my purse in front. 

I had planned to just look from here, but I felt a pull towards this fellow grieving mother, and I could not resist it.

The minister’s wife turned in her sleep. 

“Ma’am, are you awake?” I called gently, leaning forward. 

She did not move or speak as she had her face turned to the other side.

I was torn between moving closer to confirm she was OK, or just leaving the poor woman alone to sleep. It was so late already, and I even, was beginning to feel tired.

I guess all the tiredness of this long day was finally catching up with me. 

I decided I would just quickly check on her, and then leave, so I walked towards the bed.

But my ankle shook when I finally reached the bed.

Was I so tired?

I yawned, leaning my head forward to look at the minister’s wife’s face, turned to the left side of the room, her blanket partly thrown off.

I placed my purse on her nightstand, and reached for the blanket cover. 

A tear dropped from my eye as I grabbed the thick cloth. 

I shook my head in self-pity. My sadness must have been full and overflowing for my tears to fall down my eyes unbidden.

I had not even been thinking of my many sorrows, but somehow my eyes were misty. 

I pulled the cover gently to her chest, and smoothened the edges down carefully to the side.

My ankles shook again, and I felt a tremor in my calves. For the first time, I frowned in suspicion. 

I had never been this tired before. Not even the day I had to run from the Tucker mansion.

I shook my head and reached out gently for Mrs Inoue to adjust her head well on the pillow, but my vision blurred.

I froze, suddenly realizing how weak I was now feeling. 

I straightened up, and to my horror, realized I could not breathe well anymore.

I turned back to the Minister’s wife in panic, and my vision blurred again. 

Now I was sure something was wrong. Something was not right with this room.

“Mrs Inoue.” I called, not caring for honorifics at the moment. “Mrs’s Inoue.” I leaned down to shake her awake, but my hands began to jerk before my very eyes.

I reached out for my purse on her nightstand, but my legs gave out. I crashed to the floor, my purse coming down hard beside me, the contents spilling out. 

I turned back to the door. It suddenly seemed like it was a thousand miles away. 

How will I get there if my legs would not cooperate?

It felt like my body was being pressed to the ground by something bigger, heavier than me.

Phone! My phone. 

But who could I call? Kan? His phone had been turned off for the whole evening, and he must still be too busy humping his whore to think of anyone else.

My throat was already beginning to feel restricted. But I could not cough, and when I opened my mouth to scream, there was no strength in my lungs to carry my voice.

I saw my son’s face float before my eyes as more tears streamed down my cheeks, and my forehead held beads of sweat.

“Mrs Inuoue,” I whispered, reaching up to touch her on the bed. But my hands were shaking badly.

I could not tap the phone screen properly, and my voice was too faint for the Ai control to pick up on.

Is this how I would die? I don’t want to die.

I cannot die.

This all felt familiar. How many times have I been in this situation, where I had to repeat these words like a mantra?

But I really could not die. 

Who would I be leaving my precious Oliver for? 

Definitely not those two men who cared about their power struggle above all else.

My eyes were beginning to close on their own, despite how much I willed them to stay open. 

I wish my mother were still alive. 

She would have come to save me. Somehow she would sense that her child was dying and come rescue me.

I did not have that kind of connection with my biological father. I did not even have his contact number.

Blaine frowned at the number displayed on his phone. 

He was so mad he could barely see, but he recognized it.

He had only seen this number a few times, but every time, all it had brought was bad news. 

Still, he did not hesitate to respond, because what if she had finally decided to tell him the truth about his son?

“Ariel?” he said as his phone connected to the speaker of the car he had kicked his chauffeur out, to drive himself. 

He heard a sort of whining from the other end of the phone. 

He frowned. Was this a prank call? Is this how low they had gotten? She would call to prank him now? 

“Help.” 

“What?” The voice had been low, but he had heard the words clearly. 

That had been Ariel’s voice, and she was calling him for help.

“Ariel, where are you?” He shouted in panic into the phone, but all he heard was the whining sound again. Was she hurt?

“Ariel.” He said again, and quickly checked if he could access her location from the call. 

He could. 

He frowned at the screen even as he made a bend, and began to speed towards the location.

What was Ariel doing at the minister’s house at that time of the night? And where the hell was Sullivan that his wife had to call another man for help?

Suddenly, he began to feel suspicious. 

Was this some type of ambush? Did they plan to trick him?

He stepped on the brakes, contemplating if he should just turn back.