August 1st was Leland Burns’ birthday, and several things happened that day.
First, he would soon have two children and become a father. This was a joyous event, expected and smooth.
Henry brought news of Winifred Dawson that day. He and Wesley rushed into Autumn Joy Estate just before noon, during lunch.
Mrs. Protich had prepared three home-cooked dishes, all favorites of Winifred Dawson, as Leland Burns had specifically instructed.
Leland Burns tasted each dish but couldn’t understand why Winifred Dawson relied on Mrs. Protich. He sincerely believed his cooking was better; the food was slightly too salty.
Henry came in hurriedly, having been busy looking for Winifred Dawson. He usually wouldn’t come here unless it was important.
Leland Burns calmly took a sip of water, watching the panting Henry and the deeply furrowed brows of Wesley. Something bad seemed to have happened.
“What’s going on? Why are you rushing in like this? Have you had lunch? Want to join us?”
Henry hesitated to deliver the news to Leland Burns, fearing it would ruin his appetite.
“I…” Henry’s legs trembled slightly. Those who knew him would understand he was very nervous and hesitating about something.
“Just say it! Stop shaking your legs.”
He didn’t want to shake his legs but couldn’t control it. Henry looked at Wesley: “You say it.” Passing the buck quickly.
Usually quiet and reserved, Wesley took over. Leland Burns put down his cup.
If Henry hesitated so much, it meant the news was serious.
Wesley’s face was solemn as he organized his thoughts before speaking: “Mr. Burns, we found Miss Dawson.”
Found her? That should be good news. But before Leland Burns could smile, he saw Wesley’s serious expression. He knew it wasn’t over.
The atmosphere grew tense. Leland Burns felt a sudden anxiety: “Where is she? How is she now?”
Mrs. Protich, busy in the kitchen, perked up her ears at these words.
If Winifred Dawson was found, she could leave here. But if she left, what would happen to Winifred Dawson? Would she be locked up like these past few days?
Mrs. Protich worriedly wiped a bowl with a dishcloth and quietly moved to the kitchen door to listen carefully.
Wesley’s throat tightened. Better to rip off the band-aid quickly: “Mr. Burns, we received news from J City that Miss Dawson’s boat encountered a storm last night and hit rocks, causing it to break apart. Everyone on board fell into the sea; rescue efforts are ongoing, but no survivors have been found.”
“Bang!” A loud crash echoed as something shattered.
Mrs. Protich stood there with a dishcloth in hand; the bowl she had been holding lay broken on the floor. She stared blankly at it, feeling as if her heart had shattered like the bowl.
Before her mind could react, tears began to flow.
How does one react to a sudden shock or unexpected event? Leland Burns always thought he was calm enough to face anything without fear. Even if he couldn’t solve an unexpected situation perfectly right away, he wouldn’t lose control like now.
His mind, accustomed to extensive thinking and consideration, now felt like an old computer with a damaged mainframe and a frozen screen that finally went black.
For the first time, he didn’t know what to do next.
He even thought about escaping, pretending not to hear or see anything as if none of this had happened.
As long as he didn’t look for Winifred Dawson or hear any news about her, she wouldn’t be dead.
His body stood up belatedly; why stand up? His mind couldn’t respond. His body staggered uncontrollably; his hand knocked over half a glass of water on the table, wetting his sleeve.
Henry and Wesley watched Leland Burns worriedly, fearing he might lose control any second.
His mind sensed danger; his scalp tightened as if warning him not to pursue further questions. But his mouth acted independently.
Leland Burns’ face turned grim as he hoarsely demanded: “What did you say? Say it again!”
Wesley braced himself; his hands clenched into fists at his sides: “Mr. Burns, Miss Dawson is dead… Please accept my condolences and face reality…”
Before he could finish speaking, Leland Burns lunged at him like a wolf and grabbed his collar fiercely.
“Screw your condolences! Face reality! I don’t accept it! How can Winifred Dawson be dead? Tell me! How can she be dead! What do you mean no survivors were found? Without finding her body, how can you say she’s dead? I want-alive or dead-I need proof! If there’s no body for one day, it means she’s not dead!”
Leland Burns’ eyes were bloodshot; veins bulged in his temples as he gripped Wesley’s collar with all his might like a mountain collapsing on him.
Wesley felt like a rope tightened around his neck, making breathing difficult. Henry quickly grabbed Leland Burns’ wrist urgently:
“Boss, let go! You’ll choke him! Winifred Dawson’s death isn’t Wesley’s fault! What does it matter if she’s dead or alive?”
Leland Burns glared: “How many times do I have to say it? Winifred Dawson isn’t dead! She isn’t!” He roared like a beast cornered in desperation; grabbing Wesley’s collar seemed like clutching at straws for survival.
He hoped Wesley and Henry would take back their words or agree with him instead.
Leland Burns wasn’t new to emotional outbursts or losing control; each time felt different though. During those nine years with Winifred Dawson by his side, he restrained himself everywhere; losing control for the first time as an adult was when he invaded her step by step on that night boat ride-a beautiful loss of control worth reminiscing about occasionally.
The second time was in M Country when he met her again and brought her back-similar to the first time but different emotionally when she got hurt badly enough for surgery while signing those consent forms outside watching doctors save her life-that panic felt like losing control for real-the first time realizing he’d miscalculated life’s moves-and realizing he’d grown dependent on her all along-becoming prey instead of hunter after years of planning-
And this time… hearing she died-panic-stricken loss-of-control hit again-fearing that feeling-like slipping into an abyss with no ground beneath-a sense of weightlessness making scalp tingle-unable to think-even breathing weakened-that steady heart suddenly lodged in throat beating wildly-pressing against tongue root-swallowing saliva painfully-
In less than a minute-his once steady eyes now bloodshot-black pupils surrounded by blood-stained thorns-
Leland Burns looked terrifying now-
Henry didn’t want to face such a Leland Burns-like confronting a demon crawling out from hell-but for Wesley’s sake had no choice-
He wouldn’t lie-to whatever Leland Burns asked-he’d tell everything truthfully: “Mr. Burns-Winifred Dawson is truly dead.”