Under the Moonshine

One | The Unwelcome News

2014

The white curtains swayed as the chilly air whistled from the opened window. A discarded telescope stood near it, as if patiently waiting for someone. Emily was fast asleep in her bed, blankets lies on the floor, long forgotten. Goose bumps bloomed into her long legs as another gush of wind swung inside her room.

It was past midnight, nearing two in the morning, when the loud ringing from her telephone jolted her awake. A huge brown dog appeared, as if also distracted by the caller, and jumped into her bed to cuddle.

Still groggy, Emily patted her Labrador before answering the phone.

"Yeah?" she muttered, still half asleep. "Who's this?"

"I'm sorry to say this," the man said from the other line. "But your father has passed away."

She stared, waiting for that phrase to sink in. But nothing seemed to register in her brain, only the heavy thump of her chest. "Excuse me?" Emily said, eyes wide.

"Your father, Mr. Sebastian Martin, has passed away."

She stared out blankly, mouth agape with shock. The dog had sensed her emotion and immediately made a crying nose. As if he heard the news.

He was found dead in his laboratory... A sudden heart attack... The guard found him with no vital signs...

She dropped the phone, shell-shocked. "No... It can't be."

Her dog licked her jaw, sadness reflecting into his eyes. Emily shook her head and held up her hand against her chest, trying to calm her wild heartbeat. They just had an argument earlier that night. So he can't be dead, right?

She felt her chest constricted, breathing seemed harder for her now. "He's not dead, buddy," she told her dog, trying to convince both of them. Broken sobs escaped her mouth, grief building itself rapidly that she couldn't contain herself any longer. "No, God, he can't be dead. No... No..."

She shook her head again as she broke into tears, hoping to hell that she was just having nightmares again.

But the pain she felt inside made her realize that she was wide awake and that she was facing reality.

- - - - -

Emily's eyes were blotchy from crying.

Her face looked paler than usual, her natural pink lips zipped together. A loosely bun was on top of her head, compiling her long curly hair.

Since she was the only daughter, the corporation his father built was in complete chaos. Who's going to be President now? Who's in charge? What about the contracts he needed to sign immediately? What if their stocks fall? She never dreamed of managing his father's business and they both knew it well.

"Emily," Wilson called out, arms wide open. He was her godfather, her dad's bestfriend and the company's vice president. "How are you feeling?"

He embraced her like she was his own daughter, his three-piece suit seemed to glimmer under the fluorescence. The lobby area of Yotta building looked glamorous with its high-end designs, the ambiance inviting. But none of it seemed to soothe Emily's aching heart.

"My dad's dead," she said in a clipped tone. "I don't know what to feel."

Wilson nodded, empathy evident in his small eyes. "I am sorry for your loss, Emily."

"I am, too," she whispered as her mouth shook, eyebrows drawn together. But she didn't let herself succumb to grief. Not yet. She didn't want to be seen crying.