Between Us

Prologue

"Mom, did you see Mrs. Ramirez today? She gave me extra candy because I answered all her questions in class!" Mia exclaimed, her eyes shining with pride.

Mom chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes, sweetheart, I saw her. She told me you were the star student of the day!"

I was sitting at the dinner table with my mom and Mia, my six-year-old sister. We were laughing and chatting away, eagerly awaiting Dad's return from work. Mom was telling us about her day at the market, and Mia was excitedly talking about her school project on dinosaurs.

"Yeah, Mia, you're becoming a little genius," I chimed in, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Mia giggled, swatting my hand away. "Stop it, Eng! You're messing up my hair!"

We were in the midst of our lively conversation when the doorbell rang. I assumed it was Dad, returning home at last.

"Maybe that's Dad finally home from work," I said, getting up to answer it.

As I opened the door, I saw a police officer standing there, and a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. Had I messed up again? It wouldn't be the first time a cop showed up at our doorstep because of me.

"Are you the Waraha family?" he asked, his voice grave.

I nodded, feeling a knot forming in my stomach. "Yes, we are. Is everything okay?"

The officer's next words shattered my world into a million pieces. "I'm sorry to inform you that your father was involved in a car accident. He didn't make it."

For a moment, everything around me blurred. The words echoed in my mind-accident, dead, Dad. My heart pounded in my chest as my legs threatened to give way beneath me.

Mom rushed to my side, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. "No, no, it can't be true," she sobbed, collapsing onto the floor.

The officer kept talking, but his words were like background noise, distant and muffled. All I could focus on was the pain ripping through my chest, the ache of knowing I'd never see my dad again.

I stood there, numb and speechless, staring at my mother's broken form. Mia rushed over, but I instinctively pulled her into my arms, guiding her away from the chaos unfolding before us.

"Come on, Mia, let's go to your room," I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dinner getting cold on the table, not the laughter we shared just moments ago. All I could think about was the fact that my dad was gone, and our lives would never be the same again.

"Where's Daddy?" Mia's voice quivered as she looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.

I knelt down beside her bed, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "Daddy... he's not coming home tonight, sweetheart," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her bottom lip quivered, and she reached out for me, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck. "But he promised he'd read me a bedtime story," she whimpered.

I felt a lump form in my throat, but I forced a smile for her sake. "I know, pumpkin, but how about I read you one instead?" I suggested, tucking her into bed and planting a soft kiss on her forehead.

She nodded, her sniffles starting to subside as I reached for her favorite storybook. As I began to read, my mind was elsewhere, still reeling from the news of Dad's death. But for Mia's sake, I pushed my own grief aside, focusing on giving her the comfort and reassurance she needed in that moment.

----

We made our way to the hospital in a daze, each step feeling heavier than the last. The reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks as we entered the morgue, the sterile smell of disinfectant assaulting my senses. I held my mom's hand tightly as we approached Dad's body, steeling myself for the sight that awaited us.

"How is this possible?" I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. "Dad never drank. He was always so careful..."

My mom's eyes were red and swollen from crying, but she remained silent, her hand clasped tightly in mine as we waited for answers.

The medical examiner, a solemn figure in a white lab coat, approached us with a sympathetic expression. "I'm afraid we found traces of alcohol in his blood," he explained gently. "It's possible he may have had a drink without you knowing."

I felt a surge of anger rise within me at the suggestion. Dad was always so careful about his health, so responsible. The thought of him drinking and driving seemed utterly absurd.

The next few hours passed in a blur as we filled out paperwork, made arrangements, and tried to come to terms with the fact that Dad was really gone. It was a surreal experience, like I was watching everything unfold from a distance, detached from the pain and grief that threatened to consume me.

Back at home, the silence was suffocating. Mia was at school, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that had befallen our family. Mom sat in the living room, her tears flowing freely now, unrestrained by the need to stay strong for Mia's sake.

I watched her from the doorway, my heart breaking at the sight of her grief. Despite my own pain, I knew I had to be the strong one, the one who held our family together in our darkest hour.

"Mom," I said softly, stepping into the room and kneeling beside her. "We're going to be okay. We'll get through this, I promise."

But my words seemed to offer little solace to her tortured soul. She clung to me desperately, her sobs wracking her body as she buried her face in my shoulder.

"I can't do this without him, Engfa," she cried, her voice muffled by tears. "He was everything to me."

I held her close, offering what little comfort I could in the face of such overwhelming sorrow. But inside, my own heart was breaking, my grief threatening to consume me.

I stepped into my father's office, the room filled with memories of happier times. His presence lingered in every corner, from the photos on the walls to the books on his shelves. I traced my fingers along the edge of his desk, feeling the weight of his absence like a physical ache in my chest.

As I gazed at the family photo sitting proudly on his desk, a lump formed in my throat. Dad's smiling face stared back at me, his arm wrapped around Mom's shoulders, Mia grinning up at the camera from his other side, a painful reminder of everything we had lost. With a trembling hand, I reached out and picked it up, my thumb caressing the image of my father's face, so full of life and laughter.

And then, it hit me like a tidal wave, the pain and the grief that I had been holding back for so long. The tears came unbidden, hot and fierce, as I collapsed into the chair behind the desk, the weight of my loss crushing me like a vice.

"Why did you have to go?" I whispered, my voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the room. "Why did you leave us like this?"

Anger and sadness warred within me as I struggled to make sense of it all. How could he have left us so suddenly, without a word of goodbye? How were we supposed to go on without him?

I buried my face in my hands, the weight of my grief crushing me like a tidal wave. "I hate you for leaving," I sobbed, the words torn from the depths of my soul. "How am I supposed to do this without you?"

But there was no answer, only the empty silence of the room, echoing back my pain and despair. And as I sat there, alone with my grief, I realized that no matter how much I wished for it, Dad would never be coming back. All I could do was try to find a way to live without him, to carry on in his absence.

But even as I railed against the unfairness of it all, a small voice inside me whispered that I had to be strong. For Mia, who still had her whole life ahead of her. For Mom, who needed me now more than ever. And for myself, because giving in to despair was not an option.

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Note: I dropped the new story earlier than expected 😅 ik i still gotta finish hearts on the highrise but couldn't resist putting out this new novel 🤧

btw, im loving the cover🥹🤍