It was the next day.

Irene felt sh*ttier that ever. An indescribable irritation and sorrow washed over her the moment she woke up. The bruises and scratches yesterday have just exacerbated everything.

Her heart was so stuffy. Her head was aching. She wanted to lie in bed all day. 

Good for her that she actually had nothing to do today. 

Yesterday after her wounds were treated, Alex directly approached Vince and “requested” a three days off for her. 

Of course, the “kind” Vince gladly granted it and even gave Alex a smile—if you could even call that a smile—as he agreed.

Irene, who was feeling blue and frustrated, with all difficulty, got out of bed and grabbed herself a glass of water to moisten her throat. 

She was searching for medicine to ease her headache, but she remembered she left her stash of medications in her apartment.

Irene’s body was dragging her down. She didn’t want to leave the room and run down to the nearest pharmacy. Plus, interacting with others right now and asking them to do something for her would probably suck up all her remaining energy. 

She wished to be alone. 

Irene’s shoulders slumped, and she exhaled a defeated sigh. The f*ck’s happening?

Right then, her phone that she left unattended rang. Irene shifted in bed and tried to go back to sleep. 

Still, her phone kept ringing.

Irene covered her head with a pillow intending to drown out the noise, but it was a fail. 

It kept ringing, and ringing, and — “Ugh.” she groaned through her pillow, “What the heck is this now.”

Irene unwillingly sat up and fetched her phone from the bedside table. 

When she read the caller’s name: “Ohhhh.”

It was Alex. 

Deep breaths. 

Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

Her throbbing head pinched her, and she winced in pain. “Sh*t.”

Endure, Irene, she said to herself. 

Bringing back an ounce of rationality, Irene cleared her throat and answered the call. 

“It’s 9 am. Where are you? Do your wounds hurt that badly? We’ll go to the hospital first so a doctor could check it. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you; we should’ve gone to the hospital.” Alex was distressed. 

“My wounds are fine. I just have a headache.” Irene dismissed his worries. “Do you need me for something?”

Upon hearing her words, Alex paused and then massaged his temples. “Right. We’ll go to the hospital first.”

“Wha—” Irene was cut off.

“It’s final, and I won’t change my mind. Thank God I already bought the flowers. From the hospital, we’ll go directly to the cemetery. Come on, I’m downstairs.”

Cemetery…… Irene hurriedly ended the call and scanned the notifications she ignored that morning. 

[Calendar: Death Anniversary]

It was today. The inexplicable exhaustion, sorrow, and pain she underwent were remnants of the original Irene’s grief. It was so strong that even she, a different soul, could experience the agony. 

This core memory of the original completely slipped Irene’s mind. 

Irene felt awful and hurried to get dressed. It would also be bad if she skipped visiting the original’s sister’s grave; Alex would question her. It has become the original’s custom to visit, and she hasn’t missed a single year. 

Behind the Ray-Ban and black mask, Alex could distinguish Irene’s disheveled appearance as she got into his car. 

Today was really not the best day to talk more than what was necessary. Alex reached into the glove box. “Here.”

Irene stared blankly at the masculine fingers holding the white rectangular box in front of her. “This…”

“For your headache.”

“Ohh,” she whispered. Irene absentmindedly took it. 

She fumbled as she opened it. Irene’s eyes were fixed on the tablet for a good thirty seconds before reacting. Water. I need water. She raised her head to ask Alex to stop at a convenience store to buy a bottle of water, but then she froze. 

They were still at the hotel. Irene thought they were already driving toward the hospital, but apparently not. Her tired eyes moved to meet the coddling look on Alex’s face. 

“Here’s some water,” he softly said while handing her a bottle. 

Unsure of how to react, Irene took the medicine and drank the water till its last drop. 

After making sure she finished taking the medicine, Alex’s heart finally somewhat lightened and started the car. 

Alex was now used to seeing Irene like this on this specific day. Her headache was also a yearly occurrence, so he learned to go to the pharmacy before fetching her every year. 

The first time he knew about this was the year he first managed Irene. It was a coincidence. There were papers that urgently needed her signature and he forgot to give it to her the day before. Irene couldn’t be contacted that day, hence, with no other choice, he visited her in her apartment.

He thought it would be quick. Just scribble a couple of times and it’s complete. It won’t take an hour. Surely she wouldn’t be upset with that.

But then, what greeted him was a lifeless Irene. 

Both were taken aback by the presence of each other. 

This instance subverted his impression of her. 

Initially, he pitied her. He wanted to give a little gesture of compassion, hence he offered to take her to the cemetery. 

And that was how it all started. 

Days turned to years, and he knew more and more about her. The pity he felt turned into indulgence, pampering, then to cuddling. 

If he could help it, he wanted nothing to ever happen to her—may it be directly or indirectly.

Obviously, the incident yesterday rubbed him off the wrong way. He has constantly been on edge since then. This morning, he also noticed how she forgot the date. 

Did her headache become worse? Was she hurt in other places as well? Is she alright?

To put down all these worries of his, it was better to stop at the hospital for a quick check-up.

The trip to the hospital was brief. The doctor found nothing unusual besides her injuries from yesterday. For the headache, the doctor prescribed Irene the same medicine Alex gave her. 

With this, the two went on their way toward the main agenda of the day.

Inside the confined metal box, instrumental music was frolicking in the ears of the listeners. It tenderly caressed the sleeping Irene’s throbbing temples, softly spreading warmth through its notes. 

While waiting for the traffic light to turn green, Alex stole a glance at the woman beside him. The golden light’s feathery touch shyly landed on her face, careful not to wake her up. 

The cerulean orbs were slowly walking into a trance. Fortunately, before they could step into the trap, a honk timely pulled them out.

Alex continued to drive toward their destination.

***

It was the 30th of July. The day Rosalind Cooke committed suicide. 

**Flashback**

“Where is she?”

The sound of a group of 10 years old boys rang from above little Irene’s head as she crouched behind the bushes hiding from them.

As the only orphan in the class, plus with her friendly attitude and looks, Irene effortlessly stood out among the crowd. Her disposition made the adults in the school favor her.

But such popularity came with negative consequences. Some of Irene’s classmates became envious of her. 

An abandoned child of unknown origin has grasped the love of everyone. This was a hard pill to swallow for several of them, especially so for the leader of the three boys, Gavin Cress, who was currently looking for her. 

Gavin Cress lies between the range of mischievous to bear child. He would come in late during class, wouldn’t do his homework, and was crass with other people’s feelings. 

It could easily be pictured out how he would be regularly reprimanded by teachers in class. 

When he saw how Irene was always pardoned every time she made a mistake, it incensed him. That’s not fair. How can she get away with so many things?

Little by little, these thoughts of his became the root of Irene’s suffering. 

Gavin started to verbally insult Irene. He was clever enough to hide his actions from adults. Thus, he would only tease her, ridicule her, calling her an orphan and unloved when Irene was alone, and there was no better opportunity than after school.

Together with his two other friends that he pulled with him, they would deliberately bump with Irene and start their assault,

“Hey, orphan! Where are you going? Last I heard, you don’t have a home to go to.”

“Your parents must have been very disappointed when you were born. That’s why they left you in the orphanage.”

“You’re a bastard.”

It was a nightmare. Irene was sensitive to the words orphan, abandoned, and unloved because she perfectly knew the meaning of those words.   

The little girl was already at the age where she would question her origin. 

Why would her parents abandon her? Do they not love her? 

Gavin’s words stabbed her in the heart. 

Every day after school, a prickling pain would pervade Irene’s body. Every night, her pillow would be drenched with her muffled cries. Body crouched and quivering, Irene fell into anxiety, insecurity, and depression.

Behind the bushes, Irene was soaked in sweat. Her eyes closed tightly in dread. Her hands were clenched in fear. She hoped—she prayed to God to never let them find her. 

The footfalls were getting quieter and quieter. Please leave. Please leave. Please…

Then, something brushed over her head. “Found her!”

BANG!

Irene’s sanity burst. 

Her blood went cold. Her mind went bleak. There was no escaping this traumatizing scene. 

Irene thrashed with all her might to get rid of the hand on her arm that pulled her toward Gavin. 

She shouted. “Let go of me! Let go!”

Gavin’s two friends were surprised, but then each quickly held one of her arms to restrain her.

Gavin was taken aback the moment he saw the crazed amber eyes in front of him. Red veins were scattered throughout the sclera around those amber pupils. He could see her chest rapidly go up and down. Anger. This bastard dared to be angry.

Gavin felt his pride and dominance being challenged by this mere orphan. In a beat of a second, rage overwhelmed his thoughts. “What? Are you angry? So what if you’re angry? What are you gonna do, tell your parents?”

Irene vigorously tried to free herself from the hold of these two boys. But she couldn’t. She lacked the strength to do so. All she could do was watch Gavin trample over her. 

As though hearing the joke of the century, Gavin roared in a maniacal laughter. “Oh sorry, I forgot. Your parents abandoned you. You poor little thing.” 

Gavin closed in on Irene as his eyes looked down at her. The wicked air emerging from him coiled around her body. “No one loves you, Irene.”

“What did you say?” A seething voice rang.

Recognizing the owner of the voice, Irene whipped her head up and looked over Gavin’s shoulders. She whispered, “R-R-Rose.”

“What do you think you’re doing to my sister?” It was Rosalind, the eldest in the orphanage.   

Rosalind’s question liberated the three boys from their stupor. Despite doing these things, the three boys were still afraid of getting caught. Hence, with no signal needed, the three simultaneously darted off and left Irene as she fell to the ground. 

Rosalind was five years older than Irene. Naturally, she became the older sister of everyone in the orphanage. She has been recently paying attention to Irene these few days since the day she detected Irene’s change. The more she paid attention, the more she noticed Irene becoming reticent as time passed. 

Therefore, with no pending homework due tomorrow, she trailed behind Irene as she went home. 

Rosalind arrived at Irene’s school 15 minutes after class was dismissed. She thought she was late and Irene had probably reached the orphanage by now. Unexpectedly, she saw this scene. 

Rosalind’s veins bulged as she reigned in her anger. They’re kids. It’ll be a problem if I beat them up. 

Her blood boiled as those despicable boys ran out of fear. But a more pressing matter was at hand. 

In front of Irene, Rosalind knelt on the ground and embraced Irene. “We’re your family, Irene. Everyone in the orphanage is your family. We love you. We will always love you. I, Rosalind Cooke, love my little sister, Irene, so so so much. I love you very, very much.”

Irene called out, quavering, “R-R-R-Rose.”

“I’m here.”

 “R-R- Rose.”

“I’ll always be here.”

“R-Rose.” Irene wept as she released the anguish that built up inside her.

On that day, Irene found a sacred place where she could pour her heart out. 

***End of Flashback***

Under the cloudless blue sky, Irene softly knelt in front of Rosalind’s grave. A barely audible hum left her tinted lips though a strained smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

DionneR

Helow, I've been MIA for a couple of months. Sorry about that. Things happened, and I wasn't able to finish a chapter until today. Updates will now be sporadic since I can't predict how busy I'll become in the days ahead. Nonetheless, thank you to those who are still reading this story and are still waiting for updates. THANK YOU SO SO MUCH!

Take care, and until the next chapter.

Cheers!