Page 73 of Crown of Death
As I get ready for work the next day, I physically feel lighter. I feel like smiling. I feel like going for a walk in the sun. I feel like visiting my family and actually laughing withthem.
I walk down the stairs Friday morning. Cyrus stands at the counter talking to Fredrick in German, their words rough, hurried, withurgency.
He looks over and catches myeye.
I feel myself actually blush, a smile blooms on myface.
And one slowly grows on hisface.
My heart skips a beat and a butterfly does an elaborate backflip in mystomach.
Oh, this is socomplicated.
“Did you sleep well?” Cyrus asks, turning and leaning against thecounter.
I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, pulling a chair out at the dining table. “I did.Thanks.”
Fredrick scurries over and sets a plate down on the table. Scrambled eggs, sliced fruit, andtoast.
I glance up once more as I sit, and find Cyrus watching me with that littlesmile.
I sit and even though my stomach is busy acting like a fourteen-year-old girl, I take smallbites.
My phone dings with a text and I pull it out of my backpocket.
Amelia called. She told me you have a boyfriend?! And that it’s getting super serious!! Why haven’t you told me?? When can I meethim?!?!
Mom.
I feel my face flush and I glance up at Cyrus once, but he’s turned back to Fredrick, picking at his ownbreakfast.
It’s still really new, I respond.We’re just kind of figuring things out. I don’t know if meeting him now is thetime.
Don’t try to pull that on me, Mom responds.Amelia said you’ve gone and moved in with him! If it’s serious enough to be living together already, it’s serious enough for us to meethim!
I groan, and immediately realize my mistake. Cyrus looksover.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and there’s glowing embers in his eyes, ready to tear down theworld.
I sigh and shake my head. “Nothing. Just…real world drama. It’s a little difficult to explain what’s been going on to certainpeople.”
Cyrus studies me, as if he can lift the full truth off of myface.
I’ll think about it, I text Momback.
She texts back with a frowningface.
My good mood from this morning was first thrown by Mom’s prying into what really isn’t the truth, and then further when I get towork.
Emmanuel and I go to a home to pick up a body. That of a twenty-one-year-old girl who just lost her battle with cancer. The poor parents must have known it was coming. When we arrive they’re just quiet and numb-looking. No tears. No wails of despair. Just emptiness in their eyes as we load their daughter and take her body away to prepare forburial.
My stomach feels hollow as I prepare herbody.
She’s so young. Only a year older thanmyself.
Her short hair is dyed a brilliant mermaid red. Her skin isn’t wrinkled. The only mars to her body are fromtreatments.
Sometimes life isn’t fair. Her life was cut too short. She wasn’t given the opportunities shedeserved.