The Cruelty of Tenderness

The morgue's heavy metal door swung open, and a blast of icy air hit me.

Evelyn Reed lay motionless beneath a white sheet. The diamond ring I had slipped onto her left ring finger yesterday was still there.

Suddenly, Braxton Cobb, the older brother of Evelyn's stepfather, stormed into the room. He yanked back the sheet, took one look at her body, then spun around and jabbed a finger in my face.

"Seth! You drove Evelyn to her death! You're going to pay for it!"

I shoved his hand away. "Evelyn accepted my proposal yesterday. Why would I ever want her dead?"

Braxton let out a scornful laugh. Behind him, his daughter, Macy Cobb, shrieked, "Oh, don't play dumb! My dad put that ungrateful brat through college! She finally started making some real money, and yesterday, she transferred every last cent in her account to you!

"Then she jumped off a building today! You stole her money and killed her to cover your tracks! You gold-digging murderer! Give the money back!"

I stared at Macy. "I gave her the 500,000 dollars she needed to start her studio. She transferred 600,000 thousand dollars into my account, and she clearly labeled it as repayment for the startup money I lent her.

"She earned every penny the studio made. It was her business, and she'd every right to decide what to do with her money. Even if I refused to take a cent, that wouldn't make it yours!"

Braxton stepped up to me and grabbed me by the collar. "That's a lie! She was 15 when she became an orphan. She ate my food and lived under my roof for years! Our family gave her everything, including her life!"

"She was the legal owner of the studio. Now that she's dead, the inheritance rightfully belongs to me as her uncle! You're handing over that 600,000 dollars, along with every official company seal the studio owns!"

I tore myself out of his grip and snapped, "She just died, and all you people can think about is money?"

Macy stepped forward and reached for the diamond ring on Evelyn's finger. "That ring was bought with money from the studio, too! Hand it over!"

I slapped her hand away. She let out a piercing scream.

"He hit me! Somebody help! This disgusting man murdered his girlfriend and is trying to steal her inheritance!"

The doctor on duty rushed over to break up the fight.

"This is a morgue! If you want to argue, take it outside!"

Braxton pointed at Evelyn and snarled, "If you don't hand over those company seals today, nobody's letting her rest in peace! I'll make sure she never gets buried. Let her rot right here!"

I looked at Evelyn's colorless face, and pain twisted through my chest like a knife.

My mind drifted back to last night, when I had proposed. She had slipped on the ring, tears streaming down her cheeks, and whispered that she was afraid she could never repay me for everything I had done for her.

I had thought she was overwhelmed with happiness.

We had been dating for two years, yet every time we held hands, her whole body trembled violently.

The first time I kissed her, she shoved me away and ran to the bathroom, where she threw up for two hours straight. As our relationship grew closer, things never got easier. Whenever we were intimate, she would lie there with her eyes squeezed shut, biting her lower lip until it bled. Tears soaked her pillow as if she were enduring some terrible torture.

Whenever I stopped and asked what was wrong, she would only clutch the blanket and tremble.

She insisted there was something wrong with her health. Then she would wrap her arms tightly around me and apologize over and over again.

I knew she loved me. It broke my heart to see her suffer, so I never pressured her again.

I thought she was simply shy and guarded, that time would heal whatever troubled her. Yet the day after she accepted my proposal, she jumped to her death.

Braxton pulled a piece of paper from his pocket.

"Take a good look! This is a promissory note signed by Evelyn herself! She owed me three million dollars in living expenses! If you can't pay up today, I'll make sure she doesn't get a moment's peace, even in death!"

I stared at the note. The handwriting was crooked and uneven, and several dark stains marked the edges of the paper. They looked disturbingly like dried blood.

Evelyn had only just turned 18 five years ago. How could she possibly have owed him three million dollars?

What were those bloodstains?

"You want money?" I grabbed Braxton by the collar and slammed him against the wall. "Then show me an itemized breakdown of this so-called debt!"

Instead of looking frightened, Braxton broke into a sinister grin. "Fine! Let's head to her studio right now and see how many other debts she's been hiding from you! I'd love to see how long a spoiled rich kid like you can keep protecting that little slut!"