Mary traced the address on the paper, ultimately finding her way to the residence that Quang Minh had mentioned. An epiphany abruptly dawned on her-she had been thoughtless and inconsiderate of late. Despite being betrothed, she never visited his dwelling or inquired about his preferred place.
This apartment complex was pretty, albeit two districts away from her home. Not familiar with the route, she had spent much time getting there. His apartment was on the 14th floor, which seemed fitting as he had once revealed his fondness for overlooking the landscape from an elevated vantage point.
Apartment 1407 was now directly in front of her. She could hear conversations from within. She silently assumed he was watching television or had company. After a night of disquieting silence, she finally found a sliver of hope. With a joyful heart, she rang the bell. A voice from inside responded, followed by a woman, several years her senior, opening the door.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked.
Caught off guard, Mary hesitated momentarily, unsure what to say. Stammering, she asked, “Who… who are you?”
The woman looked utterly taken aback, suddenly faced with a stranger at her door, asking her who she was.
“I am the owner of this apartment. Who are you here to see?”
Mary looked again at the address on her paper and then at the house number-it was indeed correct. Yet, how could this be?
Gathering herself, she replied.
“I am looking for Andrew Alexander.”
The woman offered a polite smile and responded.
“You must be mistaken. There is no one here named Andrew Alexander.”
The door closed, and Mary was left utterly devastated. She could never have anticipated that the man she had always trusted and loved could deceive her painfully. She turned around, leaning against the wall, lost in sorrow and despair.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed, startling her. Ana Madam was calling. She heard her choked sobs from the other end when she switched to the call.
“Mary! Where are you? Get to the hospital immediately. Your father has had a heart attack and has been hospitalized. It’s an emergency.”
Mary hung up and dashed out of the building. She felt like she wasn’t running but floating in mid-air. How could so much misfortune occur within such a short period?
This city has a peculiar rhythm – when you most need to race against the clock, the roads seem to conspire against you. Mary waited, then wept in despair as she abandoned her car in the middle of the street, catching a motorcycle taxi to the hospital.
The corridors echoed with bleakness. She asked for directions incessantly until she finally found where her father was lying. Opening the door to the inside felt like stepping into a desolate realm. Mrs. Frank sat beside the bed, clutching her husband’s hand and crying. Mary walked over to her father and lowered her knee to the floor. She held his increasingly cold hand. Mr. Frank could barely form a coherent sentence, stuttering.
“Ma… r…. y! My…”
Her sobs came in bursts before she broke down completely. Despite Mr. Frank breathing from oxygen, his breath grew weaker daily, and he tried to speak best.
He had been brought to the hospital with a sudden heart attack and had suffered a ruptured blood vessel, his condition perilously critical. The most dangerous moment had passed, but the doctors advised the family to prepare for the worst-case scenario, which could still arise.
His weak fingers attempted to grasp Mary’s hand but failed to maintain any hold. He tried to lift his head and tell her something, but his words wouldn’t form. Mrs. Frank’s heartrending cries filled the room. In a flowing, novelistic language, the translation could be:
Mrs. Frank wept bitterly over her current family circumstances. A woman who was once so committed had traveled from the South to the North with her husband, yet she had utterly collapsed.
She barely had the strength to cry or to say anything. Every time she looked into her husband’s lifeless eyes, it felt like a thousand knives were piercing her heart.
Mary could tell that her father was trying to say something, so she leaned closer, straining to hear his strained whispers.
“A… n… d… r… e…”
Confused, Mary asked again.
“What did you say, Dad?”
She leaned in once more. Using the last of his strength, Mr. Frank tried to repeat it.
“A… n… d… r… e…”
Lifting her head, Mary managed to catch what he was saying. Suddenly, her father’s breathing became erratic, and the heart monitor’s alarm shrieked an eerie warning.
Mary quickly called for the doctor, but the monitor displayed a long, terrifyingly silent flat line.
Mr. Frank had taken his last breath, and Mrs. Frank’s stifled cries filled the room, making the situation all the more lonely. Mary sat down, allowing her mother to lean on her shoulder, providing a refuge for the flowing tears.
Her hand came to rest on her mother’s shoulder, yet it could not find stillness, trembling in intermittent shudders. Her heart throbbed painfully, threatening to annihilate her physical form and spirit. The doctor’s sad sigh spoke volumes – life had been lost, leaving behind a world of regrets.
The funeral of Mr. Frank was held in stillness. The company was going through rough times, and the family did not want undue attention. Those who came to pay their respects were close friends, comrades, and company employees.
As the only child, Mary dealt with the funeral arrangements single-handedly. Those who visited could not help but feel sympathy for her wan, gaunt complexion. Mrs. Frank fainted, for this loss was too immense to bear. She had never believed a day when the man she loved and spent many years with would depart.
Joy also came, but her visit was brief. She was dealing with the media fallout from a plagiarism scandal and couldn’t afford to stay longer. Above all, Joy understood the profound pain of losing a loved one, having experienced it herself.
The house was filled with silence and sorrow when the last guests departed. Nobody felt like eating or drinking. They drifted aimlessly, like lost souls. Ana Madam cooked a bowl of abalone porridge for Mary, but the moment it touched her lips, her tears overflowed, and her sobs choked her, making it impossible to swallow. She vividly remembered her father preparing the same dish for her when she craved it, as it was his specialty. The sight of the porridge made it feel like he was still here, by her side. She broke down in uncontrollable sobs again.
Ms. Selina consoled her, reminding her to suppress her grief because life is unpredictable, and she still had her mother and the man she loved – Andrew.
Upon hearing Andrew’s name, Mary’s despair deepened. Since the incident, he had been unreachable, and she had an unsettling feeling that something terrible had happened. However, she did not dare to bring it up in her current state.