RESIDENT EVIL • Assignment Ashley: Rescue Condor One (RE4)

The Weight of Doubt

Ashley's POV:

The journey back to the White House was a suffocating descent into the silence of a tomb. I felt myself getting buried under the crushing weight of worthlessness and self-loathing.

If there were an award for being the most useless wannabe, I would have claimed ten in a single night; one wouldn't suffice for my cowardice.

The reality hit hard when it was time to put words into action. I found myself crumbled with fear and self-doubt. I despised the vulnerability that still clung to me like a rotten stench, decaying my resolve with it.

As soon as the car passed through the gates of the White House, I stepped out. I couldn't bear sitting there alone with my thoughts for another second. A helper, waiting with an umbrella, approached me. I declined her offer, allowing the icy raindrops to fall freely on my face and soak through my dress.

If only the rain could seep a little deeper and wipe away that growing stench.

Each step forward grew heavier than the last; the fabric of my dress absorbing the weight of the unrelenting downpour, both internal and external. I carried on stubbornly.

"Goodness gracious, Athy. You're gonna catch a cold," Mrs. Dancy waited at the portico for me, leaning on her cane. She was peering thoughtfully at me from behind her cat-eye spectacles. This look meant she had me figured out, or at least understood how I was feeling in the moment.

Mrs. Dancy, my childhood nanny, had been part of our family since my birth and continued to stay with us after my mom passed away when I was fourteen. She was like a second mother, always there to ensure I never felt the pain of growing up without one. Even when I moved to New York, she remained at the White House, saying that it was only natural for me to spread my wings and soar away, but she promised to be waiting back home when I needed her.

"Nan-Nan, you shouldn't stand outside in this weather. It's not good for your health."

"Nonsense! These old bones still have plenty of strength left in them. Come along, I have already prepared hot bath and some warm tea for you, dearie." With one arm on her back, and the other clutching the silver lion's head top of her staff, she led me inside. Mrs. Dancy's wooden figure belied the strength she carried, and her walk held the precision and purpose of a militant, a grace I couldn't even dream to accomplish.

I thanked her as she replaced the blanket Leon gave me, now drenched and cold, with a warm towel. My dress sloshed around the floor, ruining the speckless tiles with a dirty mop of rainwater. Usually, this would have resulted in a dressing-down followed by an endless lecture about my untidy ways, but today she remained silent. Nor did she mention anything about tonight's incident. She knew I didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm gonna go check on dad, is he in his room?" I started towards my father's private quarters.

"Sorry, dear, ever since your dad came back, he is been cooped up in his office. Another meeting."

"Ya, that means I'm not allowed inside...as long as he's fine." With a heavy heart, I redirected my steps toward my own room on the second floor. Each echoing footfall rang hollow through the empty staircase.

"He was worried about you, too."

"I know. But he's not here, again." I never doubted my father's love, but ever since mom died, he had only immersed himself into his work. We hardly spent time together anymore. I really had thought things would change after Spain, that maybe the experience of losing one another would bring us to a place of understanding and closeness. Yet, here we were, still feeling like strangers under the same roof.