CHAPTER 3
—– 6:06 am. Joan’s POV —–
Joan leaned against the rain-speckled window, staring into the dimly lit street below. Her reflection stared back, hair in a bun, disheveled. She needed time away to just relax, but she couldn’t afford a vacation now. She looked down at an ever-peaceful Isiah, sleeping in her lap.
*How can somebody be so cute?* she thought to herself. *Such a handful, but I wouldn’t trade this role for anything else in the world.* This lanky, blue-eyed beauty was her whole life. She sighed.
It had been two years since the accident, but the memories clung like a second skin.
Her smartphone buzzed on the coffee table, the screen lighting up, but she didn’t bother checking the caller ID. She let it ring, the sound slicing through the silence like a dull blade. Isiah shifted, and she knew she had to answer it before it woke him up. She picked up the phone, made to answer it, but changed her mind last minute. Instead, she silenced the ring.
The silence returned, heavier this time. Joan sat on the couch, her frame propped against the arm of the settee, staring at the photo on the wall. A frozen moment in time: Her, Tom, and their dog, with Max grinning under a cloudless sky. She hated the photo. It felt like a cruel joke, mocking her with memories of a life that no longer existed. But Isiah loved it, so she couldn’t get rid of it.
He moved slightly, adjusting his pre-teen body, and snored so loudly she chuckled.
Sigh. That’s all she did these days, sigh. Her thoughts drifted back to the accident.
—
The crunch of metal, the smell of burning rubber, and the suffocating weight of regret. All around her was blood and smoke. She tasted the grime in her mouth and tried to move, only to realize she couldn’t. She opened her eyes for the first time and saw her legs strewn awkwardly. She tried calling for help, but nothing came out.
From the corner of her eyes, she saw movement. Max and Tom, both bleeding from the side. A large piece of metal pinned them down. The horror of it hit her all at once, and she screamed, but no sound escaped.
Someone pulled her from the wreckage. She felt her throat burn as darkness took over. And in that moment, she knew she had lost everything…
—– 8:06 am. Bella’s POV —–
“I called your phone, Joan.”
Bella’s voice broke the silence like a clap of thunder. She was in no mood for any of Joan’s pleasantries. She slammed the office door shut, standing with her arms folded across her chest. Joan’s head was neck-deep in her computer, and for a minute, Bella thought she couldn’t hear her. But then, Joan’s face gave it away—she had heard every word.
“Joan, did you hear what I said?” Bella demanded. Joan slowly lifted her eyes from the screen, her gaze sullen and distant. Bella’s heart skipped a beat. She had never seen her friend like this. Joan was always peppy, taking in everything Bella sent her way, but now she looked… broken.
“Are you okay?” Bella asked softly.
“I’d like you to wait outside, Miss Reza,” Joan replied, her voice strained.
“Wow,” Bella thought. “She actually wants space.” Before Bella could protest, Joan motioned for her to leave, directing her to the secretary’s office.
Twenty minutes later, Bella was called in. She entered and, for a full minute, neither of them spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words. Finally, Joan exhaled a shaky sigh.
“Look, Bella. I didn’t mean to… It’s just been…”
“I interrupted her before she could finish. “It’s fine really, you don’t have to explain. You’ve warned me several times about barging into your office, and I never listen.”
Bella paused and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
Joan’s eyes softened for the briefest moment, but then she nodded. “It’s alright. So, how can I help you?”
Bella looked up for the first time since entering and saw something indescribable in Joan’s expression. It was like talking to her friend, but… she wasn’t her friend anymore. The connection was there, but it felt fractured.
“Actually, nothing,” Bella said, managing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Nothing? You didn’t come all this way to say nothing,” Joan responded, confusion evident on her face.
“Yeah. I’m fine. I had a lot to think about…” Bella trailed off. “… and realized I should sort some things out myself, you know?”
Joan leaned back in her chair. “Sit. Down. Bella.”
Reluctantly, Bella sat.
“The reason why I couldn’t see you immediately or acted out of the ordinary is because…” Joan paused, her eyes flickering to a photo of Tom. “Today is Tom’s birthday.” Tears welled up in her eyes, betraying the smile she tried to hold back. Bella felt terrible. She had only been thinking about herself. She stood up and wrapped Joan in a tight hug, both women letting go of their grief and allowing the tears to flow.
After what felt like an eternity, they broke apart. Bella grabbed a tissue and wiped her own eyes. Joan sniffed and looked at the tissue she’d just used. “I feel better,” she whispered. “I guess you’re not the only one with therapy skills.” She laughed lightly.
Bella managed a small laugh. “Oh my gosh, I’m such a mess. And I’ve got a 13-year-old son, who barely remembers Tom and a scar across his chest to remind him. Crazy.” She looked at Joan, her heart aching.
Joan wiped away more tears. “You never really talk about it, so I don’t know much.”
“There’s really nothing to talk about,” Joan shrugged. “We got into a car accident. They needed a blood donor for Max and Tom… but they could only get blood for one person.” Her tears started again. “I don’t know how Tom heard this amidst the pain, but he held my hand, smiled at me, and nodded. That was the last time I saw him smile.”
My heart broke in so many pieces.
“I remember just as yesterday my elder sister died of a tragic accident on the road that made my mum fall into the illness that took her life and the rest was history. Since then, it truly hasn’t been the same.”
“That’s new,” Joan said. “I haven’t heard this story before…”
“I don’t even remember it as much, you know… I was so close to my eldest sister and I don’t think anyone ever forgave me for allowing the accident to happen,” I shrugged. “Maybe that’s why it was easy to be sold off.” I felt Joan’s hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t ever blame yourself, friend. Now it makes sense.”
Sigh.