Forget-Me-Not

5

THE SEARCH FOR THE MISSING HEIR. By: Sylvia Greener

A month has passed but there is still no sign of Miss Olivia Chase, CEO of LY&O Corp. Hence, the police decided to declare her dead but, Mr. Henry Chase bombarded the station saying that she shouldn’t be declared dead until the body is found. Searchers saw no sign of Ms. Chase’s body leaving them no choice but to cancel the search.

Devastated Mr. Ivan Gray, fiancée of the late Miss Chase, called a press conference announcing that the search would still continue even though it would take years in searching for her. Isn’t that romantic? (Continue on page 3)

(Continuation on front page) Mr. Gray surprised everyone by showing his vulnerability to the crowd by crying. Mr. Gray and Ms. Chase met at the Circle Gala two years ago. They were the talk of the crowd for a year, has the highest trend in Twitter and the second most powerful celebrity couple in the state.

The conference was stop short when Mr. Chase suddenly arrived to the said place. Raging, he walk up to the platform and took the microphone from Mr. Gray. “She is dead.” Those are the exact words of Mr. Chase. Commotion on the crowd started when Mr. Gray suddenly punched Ms. Chase step-father. “She is not dead. You wanted her dead.”

Gasp erupted from the crowd. Rumors maybe true that Mr. Chase paid some people to kill Ms. Chase. Why would a step-father want his step-daughter dead? Is it because of the LY&O Corp.? Mysteries are left open.

It has been a month since the last time I read the article. News are heating up because of the argument made by my step-father and my so-called fiancée.  My nightmares worsen every night. Timothy told me they are my memories, hunting me in my dreams.

I stare at the vast lands stretching in front of me. I shrug on the robe I found in the utility closet before I head downstairs. I heard the soft hum of the vacuum cleaner in the living room. I smell fresh brewed coffee in the kitchen and my stomach rumbles in protest.

“Morning,” I greet Mrs. James, another housekeeper, when I sit down in front the breakfast counter.

“Good morning, Ms. Chase. Coffee?” she asks me handling a cup.

I nod. “Thank you. Did Timothy went to the hospital?”

“No, Ma’am. He is at the backyard,” Mrs. James said. “Would you like to have your breakfast right now, Ms. Chase?”

I shook my head. “Please call me Olivia. Ms. Chase sounds so formal.”

She nods uncertain. “Or just call me which ever feel you comfortable with.” I quickly added.

“Of course,” she said before leaving.

I cradle my cup carefully not to spill hot liquid in my hands as I make my way towards the backyard. I slid the door open and I felt the fresh morning air kissing my cheeks. Backyard is not the right term to describe it. It is more like a field placed behind your house. It is an open field with a-who-knows-where the fence is located.

I heard a gallop to my right. I turn to see Timothy riding a beautiful black horse. He is wearing a black sweatshirt, black pants and combat boots. His blondish-brown hair moves freely with the wind. He maneuver his horse with grace. I watch his every move with precision. He glance at my direction and smiles. He directs his horse to where I am standing.

I took a small sip of my coffee, hiding my smile when Timothy stops five meters away from me. I stare at his emerald eyes. It never cease to amaze me. He gracefully drop on the ground, holding the reins in one hand, while patting the horse.