 
### Tale of Ephemeral Street

### by TkN

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2015 TkN

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## Prologue

Noises and shades of red whirled around her. Screaming. Blood. She grabbed her temples; her eyes closed in anguish; her head violently trembling. She once again returned to that night - the thief and murderer of her youth.

Two innocent souls survived. Tainted innocence.

Her eyes awoke. She lifted her pen and scribbled onto the margin of her book, "The death of night is but the birth of day."

Her eyes were closed again.

* * * *

Everyone within the Lam's household occupied their hours in preparation for the young master's arrival. Maids and housekeepers cleaned the rooms until no dusts were present, until the rooms sparkled, as if no inhabitants had lived within this mansion. Master Lam busied himself with selecting the best paintings to be placed in his son's bedroom. Madame Lam contemplated what to wear, as she looked up and down her spacious wardrobe. Since the early morning, when dew has yet left the petals and leaves, rumors spread throughout the house:

"I've heard he's very handsome!"

"How old?"

"28."

"Girlfriend?"

"Don't know. But no fiancé for sure."

"That proves one thing."

"What?"

"He's too arrogant that no girl wants to be around him."

"Oh not at all! Master has been praising his filial son all week! He's both caring and polite. The only reason why he's not married is because he wanted to finish his studies at the States."

"For ten years? Did he fail all of his courses or what?"

"Why! You have a grudge upon young master even when you haven't met him."

"Neither have you, Chun Mui. Why praise him so?"

"Ah Sei! He graduated with a PhD in Psychology. It's natural that the process would take so long."

"Dr. Lam, eh? What's he doing in this little town the rest of the world knows not of?"

"That... That you have to ask young master yourself. Now, is the soup ready?"

* * * *

A black car slowly emerged around the corner of the muddy road. Upon noticing an approaching vehicle, the children chased after it, clearly amazed at its speed. Excited to be back home after ten years, Alexander Lam rolled down the passenger's window and inhaled the fresh air he missed when living in the hectic atmosphere of New York City. Fixing his glasses, he observed with a smile at the children playing soccer, amidst the rain.

"So much had changed, Wong," Alexander addressed his chauffeur.

"Oh indeed, young master. You will soon be intrigued with the events around here," Wong replied with a mysterious twinkle in his eyes that lessen his old age.

Alexander laughed at Wong's comment and said, "Intrigued? No haunting ghosts I hope."

Wong, without taking his focus away from the road, said, "Precisely a young living ghost."

"What do you mean, Wong?" Alexander asked as his tone turned serious.

"If you insist on knowing... There lives a girl down the street from your house who has never left her mansion since her thirteenth birthday."

"Ridiculous! How would you know she's still alive?"

"Her maid, of course. She goes to the market daily, always buying enough foods for two."

The gate slowly opened and their car came to a halt. As he stepped onto the ground, Madame Lam ran toward her son's opened arms.

"Alexander! Oh how you've grown! What did I do to deserve the punishment of not receiving one photo of you during these past ten years?!"

"Ma! You know I'm not a photogenic guy," Alexander laughed as he hugged his mother.

Master Lam came forward and shook Alexander's hand, "Welcome back, son!"

Alexander cheerfully followed his parents to their mansion. The story of the "living ghost" was pushed to the back of his mind...

## 1 – First Encounter

The moon shone brightly outside Victoria's window, resting itself comfortably amongst the stars. But even the brightest night sky could not illuminate her gloomy chamber. Layers of curtains blocked all possible entrances for the dancing lights. Victoria's shadow walked across the room, toward the only source of luminosity - thirteen dimly lit candles. Bending down, she blew them out one by one and said, "Happy Birthday Tori." Victoria stepped back to her bed, as darkness engulfed her soul...

"Good night, Victoria," Emma whispered as she witnessed the dim light faded, indicating that the nightly routine was performed. Heaving in a sigh, Emma stepped into her chamber. She untwisted her hair and let the natural curls shape her face. Slowly, her hand took off a butterfly pin that left her hair only at night. The emerald pin only had one stiff wing, unable to roam the sky without guidance, without its other half. Her hands trembled as Emma placed the pin back into its box, a trace of blood still present on its lid...

* * * *

Even before the peak of dawn, before the roosters rise, the young master of the Lam's household awoke. Wearing a big smile, he descended the stairs and was greeted by a sweet aroma coming from the kitchen.

"Good morning Chun Mui, Ah Sei," the young master said as he helped himself to the bowls of fruits.

"Young master Lam, good day to you as well," Chun Mui replied as she prepared a tray of tea for Master and Madame Lam upstairs. Chun Mui smiled politely at Alexander and left the kitchen.

"Do you usually wake up so early, young master?" Ah Sei inquired.

"Today is a bit earlier than usual, and do call me Alexander. In fact, tell everyone within this household to address me by my first name," Alexander friendly spoke as he sipped the hot coffee.

"Perhaps Chun Mui's right about your attitude," Ah Sei muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Oh nothing master... Alexander. Do you have any plans for today?"

"Hmm..." Alexander knitted his eyebrows, "I think I'll just make myself at home for the first week. I want to explore this town and get acquainted with the people before I start teaching at the University."

"Well, it's a small town but with many interesting occurrences. Have you heard..." Ah Sei halted her words.

"Heard about what, Ah Sei?"

"Oh nothing. Just noisy kids down the street."

Alexander smiled, "Or did you mean the 'young living ghost'?"

"Oh! So you've heard of her."

"I'm afraid I haven't known enough. Do you know why she hasn't left her house for so long?"

Ah Sei had a faraway look on her face and said softly, "Long indeed. Nine long years. She's twenty-two now. And I bet she knows nothing of the world! Won't be surprised if she still acts like a thirteen year old."

"So no one knows the reason?"

"Not the exact reason. There are rumors, of course," Ah Sei spoke as Chun Mui entered, "Chun Mui! You know more about this than I do."

Chun Mui sighed, "I think this town better leave the poor girl alone."

"What about her maid?" Alexander pursued the topic.

"I still see her everyday at the market. A striking beauty, I must say. I believe her name is Emma," Chun Mui replied.

"And the young lady's name?" Alexander asked as he brought his cup to the sink.

"Emma always referred to her as 'Miss Victoria'," Chun Mui stopped and then began again as her eyebrows lifted, "Ah Sei! Have you noticed that butterfly pin on Emma's hair?"

"The broken wing? I don't know why the girl even wears it."

"Have you asked her about it?" Alexander inquired as he became more intrigued.

Chun Mui sighed, "She shuts the world out, and only talks when necessary. How old do you think she is, Ah Sei?"

"Roughly nineteen," Ah Sei estimated.

"How long have they been living in this town?" asked Alexander.

"Ah Sei and I began working five years ago, and the ladies already imprisoned themselves back then."

Alexander nodded and excused himself. He ascended the stairs and quickly jotted the facts about the 'living ghost' onto his notebook. Determined to find the cause of Victoria's isolation, Alexander headed to the market square, in hopes of meeting the faithful maid - Emma. Alexander soon joined in the laughter of the buyers and sellers, as they walked joyfully up and down the streets. He missed the excitement of buying foods outdoor. Crunching on a bar of chocolate, Alexander reached inside his pocket to place several golden coins in front of a blind man, playing the violin to the public for money. As the notes increased the tempo and crescendo, Alexander witnessed a young girl being pushed onto her knees by an elder man.

"I've told you this comb is not for sell. Stop bothering!" The man shouted, his cane held the distance between them.

"I'm willing to pay any amount of money for this jade comb. Please, kind sir," the young lady begged.

"Even if I'm to sell it, I won't sell it to a maid like you. You aren't worth the comb," the man answered and hurried off.

Struggling to get back on her feet, the young lady let out a wince as her legs were in pain. Alexander hurried over to help her.

"My name is Alexander Lam," Alexander introduced as he stretched out his hand.

The girl nodded timidly and replied, "I have never seen you around, Mr. Lam."

Alexander took back his hand, "I've just come back from the States after ten years of absence. How long have you been here?"

"Nine years."

Alexander raised his eyebrows, "Are you... Is your name Emma?"

"How... How did you know?"

"My lucky day, Emma! I came with the intention of meeting you!" Alexander broadened his smile.

"Me? Or to know more about Miss Victoria?" Emma's tone became rigid.

"Please don't misinterpret my intention. I... I just want to help," Alexander quickly responded.

"That's what they all say. Good day to you, Mr. Lam," Emma replied coldly and walked away.

Confused at Emma's reaction, Alexander decided to follow her from a distance. As soon as both turned around the corner, approaching Ephemeral Street, screams and abundant footsteps became the only vivid noise. From afar, Alexander could see fire looming from a mansion down the street. Emma suddenly stopped and muttered incoherently 'Victoria'. She struggled through the crowd, one hand on her leg as she tried to suppress her pain. Alexander, finally realizing that the mansion belonged to the 'living ghost', quickly dashed forward. With the help of several men, the door was broke open. Upon seeing smoke forming on the top floor, Alexander ran for the stairs while instructing others to gather water. Coughing through the mist, Alexander heard a faint call for help.

"Miss? Where are you?" Alexander yelled in between his coughs. He vainly opened the closest doors, but could not find anyone, or the source of fire. His glasses blinded his vision as condensation formed. He angrily took them off and listened closely to Victoria's call for help. In front of him was another flight of stairs. Not wanting to turn around, he did what was his only option - he climbed up. One door stood gallantly in front of him, ajar. Through the crack, he saw a frail figure, transfixed to her bed. Fire was encircling her. Alexander rolled through the fire, swiftly covered her body with a thick blanket, and carried her down the stairs. She clutched onto his shoulders tightly, and he could feel her trembling figure and fast beatings of her heart against his chest.

"It's okay, Miss. We will be out of this burning mansion soon," Alexander tried to calm her fear, "It's a beautiful day outside! I bet the sun rose this morning just to greet you a good day."

Alexander spoke while smiling down at Victoria; her weight could not have exceeded 100 pounds. Her eyes were peacefully closed, but he knew she was trembling with fright from inside. He continued his monologue, "I just came back yesterday, and already I've saved the day. You know, I won't be surprised if they call me the town's hero from now on." Alexander stopped as he heard a crack beneath his feet. He laughed, "Ahh... I think I broke my own glasses. It's terrible not being able to see clearly, don't you think? I've always been inquisitive about this world, this life. I want to explore this earth to its edge. How about you, Miss? I've heard that you've never left this house, but I don't believe it. Surely everyone is curious as to what's out there, what this world has to offer them..."

"This world offers me nothing but pain. My life is a grave of empty promises and unwanted burdens. I know more than what I want to know of this cruel life!" Victoria spoke for the first time, interrupting Alexander's monologue. Her words were stated boldly, yet delivered softly and slowly. Shocked at the animosity evident from her tone, Alexander remained silent the rest of the way.

Kicking the door open, Alexander stepped outside with Victoria still within his arms. Emma immediately ran forward, despite her pain, and helped Victoria to the ground. For the very first time in nine years, her naked feet touched the gravels of Ephemeral Street. Her eyes squinted open, as direct sunlight shocked her.

"Victoria, are you okay?" Emma concernedly asked.

Victoria nodded her answer, her eyes fixed at the house down the street - the Lam's residence. The shock from her eyes was replaced with tears. Her body collapsed onto the ground; her sobbing continued. At this time, Alexander returned from the house to inform Emma that the fire was put out. Emma quickly said her thanks and apologized for her behavior earlier. Alexander just smiled at her response, and helped Victoria back on her feet. She quickly dried her tears and her eyes became emotionless again.

"Promises can be fulfilled. Burdens can be lifted," Alexander whispered steadily as Victoria stared into his eyes.

"But the past can't be undone," Victoria spoke back and soon hid herself behind closed doors...

Alexander turned around to the applause of the villagers. He grinned softly and excused himself from the setting. Rumors immediately spread:

"Did you get a chance to see her? Stunningly beautiful!"

"If only there's life within her soul..."

"Pity her weak self. She just broke down and sobbed!"

"Yet she could stand up again and acted as if nothing happened!"

"Very poised! Beyond beauty."

An elderly man shook his head sadly and retreated from the crowd, his unsteady footsteps supported by a cane...

## 2 – A White Card

Victoria leaned against the closed doors and slowly slid down onto her knees, her back curled over. Her eyes were filled with shock and confusion. Emma, now kneeling beside Victoria, hugged her and said, "Miss, don't do this to yourself."

Victoria asked nonchalantly, "Who is he, Emma?"

"The only son of the Lam's."

Victoria abruptly turned her head to face Emma, her voice softly spoken as if she was talking to herself, "He's a Lam? Why I haven't seen him before? Oh that's right. He told me he just returned yesterday. Do you know where he came from, Emma?"

"The States after ten years."

Victoria nodded, "Help me upstairs, Emma."

Emma silently obeyed and allowed Victoria to lean upon her body. They walked unhurriedly upstairs and Emma began tidying Victoria's room, an uncommon task since Victoria rarely caused anything to be in disarray.

"I need more candles, Emma," Victoria's voice interrupted her task. Emma nodded, replying, "I will purchase them tomorrow at the market."

Victoria settled herself in front of the mirror and asked Emma about the occurrences within the day. This conversation took place each day, always at the same time and place, in order for Victoria to be informed of the world outside. Her knowledge was the exact replica of Emma's, for it was through Emma's perspective that she learned about the world. Through her narration, Emma had purposely omitted the details about the old man and his jade comb...

* * * *

There was a knock on the door. Alexander, eyes still fixed on his scribbled notes, answered, "Come in."

Chun Mui entered and said, "Dinner will be served in two minutes, Alexander."

Alexander smiled as he realized Ah Sei had informed the staff to address him by his first name. Closing his notebook, he followed Chun Mui downstairs. Master and Madame Lam were already seated at the dining table. The chef and servants lined up on one side, ready to obey any orders their masters might give them. Alexander greeted his parents and sat down.

"Alexander, I heard you've saved that rather strange girl down the street today," Madame Lam began the discussion.

"I did save a girl today, Ma, but she is not at all strange unless you meant it as distinctiveness," Alexander replied as he cut his steak.

Madame Lam raised her eyebrows, "Oh? You've had a good first impression of her?"

Alexander smiled, "That's a statement, Ma, not a question as your tone indicated."

Master Lam cleared his throat and spoke for the first time since he was seated, "Alexander, it is best that you don't involve yourself with this Victoria Yeung."

Alexander put down his fork and knife, "Why is that, Father?"

Master Lam looked straight into Alexander's eyes, "Ten years and you already forgot the basic rule within this household? Never question your father's verdict. Don't entail yourself within this mess. Period."

Alexander opened his mouth to argue, but his mother prevented the dispute, "Alexander! Your soup is getting cold. Chun Mui, warm young master's soup, please."

"There's no need, Chun Mui," Alexander raised his hand. "I'm full."

* * * *

Alexander left to his study room. Pouring a cup of red wine, he wished his empty stomach would be satisfied with this drink. Gulping down the alcohol hastily, Alexander perused his notes, hoping that the clues would connect. He stood up and started pacing around the room, trying to remember Victoria – her actions, her thoughts, her features. Her image was blurry, her features unclear, for Alexander did not have his best friend – his glasses – when he met her. Yet, he could still recall her eyes vividly. They were big, profound, unfathomable, yet empty. At a closer glance, he could see the hidden tears, threatening to fall. "Victoria," he thought to himself. "Veracious. Intriguing. Captivating. Thought-provoking. Odd. Resolute. Independent. Abstruse. Victoria..."

* * * *

Chun Mui informed the guest to be seated in the living room while she calls the young master down. Closing Alexander's door, Chun Mui was confused not to find him within his bed or chamber.

"Could he be in his study room?" Chun Mui asked herself.

"Alexander!" Chun Mui immediately shouted aloud as she entered the study room, "Tell me you did not sleep the night away at your desk!"

Alexander shifted in his seat and slowly opened his eyes. His hands reached out unconsciously for his glasses, only to recall he had broken them yesterday.

"Can you close the curtains, Mui? The sun is hurting my eyes. And what time is it?"

Chun Mui hurried to the windows and answered, "Sharply 10AM. Are you not feeling well, young master? You usually wake up so much sooner."

"I'm Alexander, Mui," Alexander corrected her, "And I consumed some alcohol last night. Haven't been drinking for ages and now, one bottle could knock me dead."

Chun Mui laughed, "Well I do hope you feel better soon because Miss Tong is waiting for you downstairs."

Alexander groaned, "Miss Tong? Not another client of my father, is she?"

Chun Mui shook her head, "Emma Tong."

"Emma?"

Alexander quickly combed his ruffled hair, and performed his morning routines. When finished, he walked hastily to the living room.

"Miss Tong! How pleasantly surprised I am to find you here," Alexander greeted.

Emma stood up from her seat, "I am instructed to come thank you today on behalf of Miss Victoria."

Alexander nodded, "Do take a seat, Emma, if I may address you so."

Emma nodded and handed Alexander a small package along with a card, "This is from Miss. She apologized for having caused the chaos yesterday, resulting in your broken glasses. She hopes you will like this new pair."

Alexander chuckled quietly at Victoria's innocence and opened her card. He knitted his eyebrows in confusion and asked Emma, "Why? It's... It's blank."

Emma smiled, "White. With purity and sincerity, she thanks you."

Amused and intrigued, Alexander spoke, "This is why her card can't be mailed, but must be delivered, for I need an interpreter to understand its meaning. Thank you, Emma."

Emma stood up, "My task is done. I shall go now."

Alexander nodded, "Do tell Victoria that I appreciate her appreciation."

Emma did not reply but headed for the doors, with Alexander a few steps behind her. Suddenly, she halted. Turning around to face Alexander, Emma asked, "Why did you carry her outside? Certainly, the living room was safe."

Alexander lowered his head, "I admit I have shocked her greatly, yesterday. But, it was the perfect chance to let her see other people, aside from yourself, other settings, aside from her house. And Emma, she needs sunlight. I've noticed, when I put the fire out, that no natural light could enter her room."

"I understand your good intentions. But did you not consider her reaction, Mr. Lam?" Emma retorted.

"I... I thought she's a strong woman, and that she could handle the shock," he replied sincerely.

Emma shook her head, "Victoria is strong yet fragile. It was very cruel of you, Mr. Lam, to remind her of the past so abruptly and directly."

"The past... Victoria's past intertwined with my family, doesn't it?" Alexander asked with hesitation.

Emma remained quiet.

"There's no need to answer my question. I witnessed Victoria crying as her mind pointed to my house. And I do not think you will reveal the past to me when Victoria tried hard to conceal it for nine years. But I need you to answer me one more question, Emma," Alexander pleaded with his eyes. As soon as Emma nodded, he continued, "I've noticed several candles lying on the floor when trying to extinguish the flames. I assume this is the source of fire. If so, did Victoria burn the mansion on purpose?"

Emma shook her head once again, "She lit the candles as a daily routine, and usually occupies her hours reading while I am at the market. Yesterday, she had accidentally knocked the candles over while on her way to the library. She didn't realize this until her bedroom was set ablaze. And you know the rest of the story, Mr. Lam."

Alexander was bewildered, "A daily routine, did you say? I've counted the candles. Thirteen. Why? Why is Victoria celebrating her thirteenth birthday?"

"Because she considers herself dead after the age of thirteen," Emma said matter-of-factly, as if her statement was an apparent truth.

Speechless, Alexander watched silently as Emma's shadow faded from a distant. Recalling a small package still in his hands, he unwrapped it and brought the glasses to his face. Surprised at his now perfect vision, Alexander asked aloud, "And how did she know how nearsighted I am?"

"She compared the thickness of your broken lenses to this one you're now wearing," a voice answered him.

Alexander turned around to see his mother smiling at him. "Alexander," she continued. "I heard from Chun Mui that you've slept in your study room last night. Is something the matter?"

"No, Ma. I was just exhausted from the day's events," Alexander attempted to assuage his mother's worries.

"Let's hope that is the case then. How are you feeling today? Professor Wu just called. He asked if you could start teaching tomorrow. Apparently, they're opening a new Psychology course. That university is packed of ambitious students just like yourself, Alexander."

Alexander laughed at his mother's boastful words, "And what did you tell Professor Wu, Ma?"

"I said you'd love to begin earlier than assigned, and that you'd be thrilled for this teaching position! After all, Alexander, it would keep yourself busy so that..."

"So that I won't disobey Father's words," Alexander finished her sentence.

"Well... You know how strict your father can be. Do try to please him, Alexander. He's already upset when you declined his offer of leading the Lam's business," Madame Lam spoke gently.

"I know, Ma. I just don't understand why he's against..." Alexander suddenly recalled Victoria's tears when she gazed at his house, "Ma. Do you know the Yeung's?"

"Who? Oh! Victoria's parents? I have heard of them. Good business friends with your father," Madame Lam replied.

"Had Father and they been in any disputes in the past?"

"Disputes? I don't know, but why do you ask? You're not suspecting your father be the reason of Victoria's self-imprisonment, are you?"

"No. But I am certain he knows more than I do, or anyone else within this household, about Victoria's past."

"Whatever you do, Alexander, don't bring up this topic when Father is around," Madame Lam spoke sternly and left.

* * * *

An old man reluctantly walked down the street after gazing at Victoria's mansion for more than an hour, his limping shadow withdrew within the night...

## 3 – Her Childhood

Tugging onto the collar of his trench coat, Alexander Lam welcomed the cold air of autumn with a wide grin. Crumbled leaves cracked from underneath as the car rotated its wheels, heading for the university. With long, steady footsteps, the young master walked along the hallway. The breeze stroke his hair softly, as he witnessed leaves falling onto the ground. He smiled at the innocence in front of him: a maiden picking up golden leaves and pressing them onto her notebook; a lad strumming his guitar strings, trying to find the right tune. Suddenly, Alexander stopped. He could hear distinctly the voices coming from his classroom - No. 13:

"Of all rooms, we're stuck with this unlucky number thirteen!"

"And have you heard? Our professor saved that 'living ghost' who never went out after the age of thirteen."

"This is not just a simple coincidence, is it?"

Alexander pushed the door in front of him and entered. He grabbed a piece of chalk and quickly wrote on the black board, "Psychology with Professor Lam." With the chalk still in his hand, he turned around and instructed, "Take out a blank sheet of paper."

The students quickly found their seats while groaning at the prospect of taking notes. When the complaints subsided, Alexander continued, "Draw a figure that contains both the characteristics of a square and a circle. In other words, draw a circular square. You have one minute."

The class returned the challenging look of their professor with a confused expression. They picked up their pens and started drawing. Some drew a square with circular edges. Others started writing psychological theories they have studied from the past. And a few stared at their blank papers nervously as the young professor walked up and down the rows of desks. Glancing at his clock, Professor Lam announced that time was up. He collected the papers and walked back to his desk. After examining the papers, he quickly separated them into two piles.

Holding up three blank sheets of paper, Alexander Lam stated, "In my hands are the correct answers." Amidst the shocked faces, the voice of the professor continued, "Your eyes are not tricking you. These papers are indeed blank. What's more, they're correct. As we all know, a square has four right angles. Yet, these shapes you handed me have none. And I've asked for a figure, not an essay." The professor waited for the laughter to fade before proceeding, "A figure that has both the characteristics of a square and circle does not exist." He paused, "Likewise, someone who is living cannot possibly be a ghost. Thus, from now on, please appropriately and correctly address her as 'Miss Yeung'." Alexander fixed his glasses and stated, "Welcome to Psychology 2301. I am Professor Lam."

* * * *

Alexander grinned and said as he closed his textbook, "Class dismissed."

The professor watched as his students left the class one by one. Standing in front of the windows, he searched for the familiar scene that portrayed such innocence earlier in the day. But instead of the soft breeze that caused the leaves to gently fall, a whirl of wind prompted new fallen leaves to chaotically spread throughout the air. Instead of the harmonic tune of the guitar, he heard shouting's and yelling's of two groups of students in disagreement. Sighing deeply, he returned to his desk and closed his briefcase, ready to end his first day of teaching. Suddenly, he heard a faint knock on the door.

"Come in," Alexander said.

An elderly man entered, "Professor Lam, I am Professor Wu."

Alexander smiled at the familiar name and shook Professor Wu's hand. He replied, "I was ready to report to your office, Professor Wu."

The elder man smiled kindly before stating, "I'm afraid you won't have that energy, young professor."

"Pardon?"

"How did you like your first day?" Professor Wu asked, as if ignoring Alexander's previous question.

"To be frank, I am disappointed at the maturity shown by my students, or lack thereof."

"They're still young and intrigued of the unknown. They consider Miss Yeung to be part of the unknown." Professor Wu chuckled at Alexander's confused face and continued, "I've stopped by earlier and witnessed your challenge to the class."

Alexander joined in the laughter while shaking his head.

"Not many people have the privilege of knowing Victoria," Professor Wu proceeded toward the windows, his back to Alexander. Not meeting Alexander's confused expression, Professor Wu answered his silent thoughts, "I was Victoria's teacher during grade school. Back then, I called her Tori."

Alexander widened his eyes in shock but the expression was soon replaced with interest as a smile escaped his lips. "Professor Wu," he slowly began. "The privilege is mine if you unravel the details of your privilege in earlier years."

Professor Wu gave Alexander a small chuckle before addressing Alexander's attentive ears, "Tori was a beautiful child. Beautiful and peculiar. She was the most intelligent child I have ever encountered. She could do long calculations without any aid or tools. Her analyses always brought new insights, even when I've taught the materials for many years. And she never ceased to amaze me with her maturity. I could never address her as a child, because she was much more than that. She was a prodigy. But most of all, she was beautiful. She had a glow to her that radiated from within. I knew from day one that she'd become a legend. But... I didn't wish for her to continue living in solitude.

"It pained me when others cannot read her soul, even when it spoke with great earnest and sincerity. They were blinded by her outer appearance and never acquainted her true beauty. They were intimidated by her intelligence, too frightened to listen to her speak of truth. She was envied upon. And along with that, she became an outcast.

"Her parents placed her in classes that matched her IQ, making her skip six grade levels. Academically, she belonged. But her classmates ignored her presence. Wanting to be normal, she requested to attend fifth grade, where other ten years olds happily went to class. Tori, however, was anything but normal. No matter how hard she tried, she could never be less intelligent, less beautiful, less lonely...

"This very day of years ago, I met Tori, as her teacher. And soon, I became her confidant. She talked as I listened. She cried in my embrace. She smiled in gratitude. But I have never heard her laugh. She allowed me to read her diary, and the only vocabulary absent was 'happiness'. Yet, she loved living and was thankful to be born into this world, a world in which does not deserve her presence. She deserves utopia. I could never forget how she responded to my thoughts: 'No, Professor Wu. I do not wish for utopia. When something is perfect, it ceases to be beautiful. It leaves no room for improvement. It no longer possesses the potential for discovery. I like being lost in this world, Professor Wu. It gives me a lifelong journey to find out where I belong.' I looked at her longing expression and sighed inwardly. 'Maybe I belong in England.' Her words interrupted my thoughts as I looked up to meet her smiling face. 'Ma and Pa want a new beginning for me. They think I could be content in a land far away. They've settled for England. I've heard much about England, Professor Wu. I think I will grow to love it.' I nodded at her words. The day for departure soon came. She bid me good-bye as her parents awaited, 'I am sad but I won't cry, Professor Wu. An ending to something beautiful deserves not tears. And a beginning to something promising does not either. Professor, remember me with this card until the day we meet again.' She turned around and walked toward her parents as they called her name. Her father and I exchanged nods, silently bidding farewell as the car led Tori out of my sight. I looked down onto the grey, blank card within my hands. Tori once told me grey to her meant sadness. She intrigued me in many ways, especially her perception and fascination for colors."

Alexander's eyes jolted at the mention of colors. His mind traveled back to yesterday, when he received a white card from Victoria. Noticing the silence that protruded the room, Alexander urged Professor Wu to continue, "And have you heard from Victoria since then?"

Professor Wu shook his head sadly, "I traveled to Paris soon after. When I came back, Victoria already became the young 'living ghost'. Professor Lam, I have told you of Tori's story. Will you tell me who Victoria has become?"

"Her eyes... So vivid. So compelling. So haunting. Perhaps it is as you've said, Professor; her soul speaks earnestly and sincerely. Like you, I have never met anyone like her. Someone who captivates you, even in silence. You yearn for her to speak because her thoughts are unreadable. Professor, I cannot address her like a young adult, because she is much more than that," Alexander laughed as he imitated Professor Wu's earlier words. His eyes then became sober and he spoke softly. "She is an enigma. And yet, not a mystery I want to solve. For when there is a solution, a conclusion, the enigma is no longer."

Professor Wu stared into Alexander's eyes intently, "Your last phrase... Her exact replica! Professor, you must be capable of reading her thoughts as you've stated something she spoke to me years ago."

Alexander's eyebrows rose with interest, "You do not mean to say Victoria had encountered an enigma that was not herself?"

Professor Wu broke his eye contact with Alexander. He shook his head and slowly whispered, "Welcome to the university, Professor Lam."

Alexander's eyebrows knitted as he observed the retreating figure of his new principal. At the sound of the door clicking closed, Alexander rubbed his temple where a headache slowly emerged. Was it a figment of his imagination or did pain and anger appear within the eyes of Professor Wu before he stepped out?

* * * *

Alexander walked hastily down Ephemeral Street as rain started pouring hard. Covering his head with a briefcase, he shivered underneath his trench coat. From afar, a lady raced through the mud, her tears mixing with the rain. Her left hand tried unsuccessfully to cover herself while her right held tightly onto the kerosene lamp. Night was falling. Rain was falling. The water drops extinguished her light, and her tears multiplied, blurring her vision. She gasped aloud as she bumped into someone, almost stumbling onto the ground if it wasn't for his strong grasp that held her standing.

Observing her swollen eyes, Alexander's voice faltered, "Em.. Emma?"

She hiccupped back, "Please young master Lam! Please help me fetch the doctor. Miss is sick!"

## 4 – Into the Night

She lay listless on the bed, her face sallow. Her eyes squinted at the unwelcome ray of light when the door creaked open. In entered three figures. Emma immediately rushed to her side, with the doctor following closely behind.

"Miss! Please be all right."

She smiled weakly at Emma as the doctor proceeded to check her pulse. He asked about her symptoms and she could only nod or shake her head in response, as her throat was too sore to speak.

The doctor shook his head and sighed, "It seems she has a severe case of pneumonia. Possibly mycoplasma. I will have to observe the bacterial cultures from her mucus to make sure. If it is true to my prediction, she will need four to six weeks to completely recover. Meanwhile, I'll prescribe medicines to help reduce her fever and headache."

Giving Emma his prescription, the doctor took leave.

Turning toward Alexander, Emma asked, "Miss can't be alone. Will you stay here while I go to the store for her medications?"

Alexander reassured Emma's worries with a nod and settled down onto a chair near Victoria's bed. He felt her forehead and was instantly alarmed of its temperature. Victoria gazed up into his eyes that were filled with concern. She opened her mouth to reassure him that she was fine and could wait alone for Emma to return, but instead, she gave a violent cough, followed by unsteady, rapid breathing.

"Miss? You seem to be having trouble breathing. Are you experiencing chest pain?" He worriedly questioned her. Once she slowly nodded her head, he immediately sought two towels and transformed them into heating pads. He placed one on her forehead, and the other on her chest.

"When Emma gets back, ask her to place this towel directly above your skin; it will reduce your chest pain," Alexander instructed as he poured a glass of warm water for Victoria. "You need to drink a lot of water, especially with that burning forehead. Would you like me to help you to a sitting position?"

She shook her head.

"Very well. It seems the only option I have is to wet your lips."

As he gently moved a small, wet towel across her lips, Emma returned with Victoria's pills. He smiled and stood up, "It is inevitable now, Miss. You must be in a sitting position and swallow these pills fast if you want to recover soon."

After helping Victoria lean against the wall that cornered her bed, Alexander instructed Emma, "She will need to drink lots of water, and be sure to change the hot towels every now and then. I'll take my leave now, so you can position the towels appropriately." Turning to Victoria, he asked, "Will it be all right if I come back to visit you?"

She did not answer him.

He left silently.

* * * *

Outside, it was still pouring rain. Victoria slowly raised her fingers to part the layers of curtains that blocked her windows. She observed as Alexander held the briefcase over his head, and raced through the weather. He carried an urgent and solemn expression. A smile lingered on her lips as she watched his feet splashed the water underneath and dirtied his suit. She could faintly hear his laughter as he joined the neighborhood kids in a match of soccer, a can being their ball. He scored a goal and quickly hugged his teammates, dropping his briefcase. Their faces were lifted with joy. For the first time in nine years, Victoria yearned to be outside, amidst the rain, playing soccer alongside with him. At that notion, she quickly diverted her attention and closed the curtains.

Looking at Emma, she inquired "What is his profession?"

"I've heard he's a Psychology Professor."

Victoria nodded and lowered herself onto the bed. She closed her eyes as Emma replaced her towels. Shifting to her side, she asked, "How did he know I was sick?"

"I bumped into him on the streets, Miss. He was the one who fetched the doctor. As you know, it was past business hours, so my attempts to find one was futile. Luckily, young master Lam knew of Dr. Chen and interrupted him during his dinner. The old gentleman was kind and immediately followed us here."

But Victoria wasn't listening to Emma's words. Instead, her ears strained for the laughter from outside. She heard a victorious yell from Alexander, and knew he had scored another goal, possibly winning the match altogether. Silently, she wished it would never stop raining, and the game would never end, allowing her to hear the long forgotten laughter. But as with all her wishes, it never came true. The sun began to rise once again, and clouds parted. The laughter faded as the children walked home one by one. The can remained forgotten in the middle of the street. Loosening his tie, Alexander picked up his briefcase and walked home.

Sighing, Victoria closed her eyes once more and drifted off into deep slumber...

* * * *

Clutching onto her torn shirt, she ran with all her might. Her bare feet started bleeding as they made harsh contacts with the gravels beneath. Her two pig tails swung on the sides, ruffled. The sky suddenly turned grey and before she could see where she was heading, thunder bolts roamed the night. Frightened, she let out a scream for help, but lightning prevented her voice from being heard. With her sleeves, she patted her tears dry. Suddenly, a bright, immense light emerged, blinding her vision. She heard the wheels rotated with great difficulty against the gravels, and they were approaching her. She let out a scream before her body met the angled rocks, and her world became a dark abyss...

* * * *

"Ahhh!!!" Victoria jolted awake. She sprung from her bed to a sitting position. Her hot towels displaced. She quickly used her right hand to cover her pounding chest. Her left hand extended for the glass of water nearby.

"Miss? Are you all right?" Emma quickly ran to her bedside, wiping the beads of sweat that started to form above Victoria's brows.

"Emma!" She exclaimed and quickly embraced her maid. "It's the same... the same nightmare."

"Shh.... All will be okay," Emma stroke Victoria's back gently. "Let the past belong to its time."

Hot tears formed under her eyelids as she leaned onto Emma's shoulder for support. She whispered hoarsely, "Emma. Please find him tomorrow. I need his help."

* * * *

Into the night I go

Without any sense of direction

Without any company

But I will go

Alone

I will enjoy my solitude

One

Into the night I go

Will you notice my shadow?

Will there be lights guiding me?

Aimlessly, I'm going

Alone

One

Resolute.

## 5 – Emerging Uncertainties

He stood by her bedside, patiently waiting for her eyes to open. He winced each time she was in apparent pain, when her sweating refused to stop, when her coughing became dryer, and especially when she repeatedly whispered, "No... please. Please don't. No... Don't. Don't come near!" Her vague words worried him and he tried in vain to connect them with his previous knowledge about her.

"Miss, it's okay. You're only dreaming," Alexander spoke softly, trying to stop her violent tossing and turning. But his words couldn't be heard by her, unable to ease her mind, incapable of effacing her painful past.

Reaching out his hand, Alexander tucked the hair on her damped forehead behind her ears. In the middle of his action, Victoria gave a fierce shout, "Don't touch me!"

Shocked, Alexander quickly withdrew his hand as Victoria's eyes fluttered wide open. Her vision fixed on his bewildered countenance before she slowly whispered, "I'm sorry. I... I was having a nightmare."

He smiled, "I understand. Will you consider myself rude if I inquire more about your nightmare?"

She copied his smile, "Will you consider myself rude if I do not answer?"

Alexander couldn't help but broadened his smile and chuckled. He shook his head, "No, Miss. You're not rude at all."

An awkward silence emerged as he studied her face. Though pale, her features remained vibrant. A vibrancy few possessed. Her soft tendrils framed her face, wet from her perspirations. Her brows of dark, bushy thickness, etched determination and courage. Her eyes were distant, yet its luminosity seemed to be tugging his heart. Her lips another pale reflection, almost appearing like wilted petals. Yet, its soft texture promised him that she spoke of truth.

She broke his thoughts, "You're too polite."

He replied with questioning brows.

She furthered, "We're not in a formal setting. Call me Victoria, please."

He nodded and extended his hand, "It's a pleasure meeting you, Victoria. I'm Alexander."

She refused his handshake and questioned, "Is Emma away?"

"Yes. She left after bringing me here. I was told that you needed my help?" He asked with concern and a readiness to facilitate her hinted through his voice.

"Needed. But no longer," Her answer was almost inaudible.

"Victoria, you aren't refusing me the opportunity to be useful are you?" He joked, but without laughter.

"Help often comes too late. And yet, no one is to blame." He noticed her eyebrows softened, the courage replaced with remorse.

"Nevertheless, I am glad you once needed me. When I left yesterday, I was afraid I won't have permission to see you ever again." He paused before continuing, "I still need an answer, Victoria. May I?"

"Why?"

"Because I have never met anyone like you, and believe it is my loss if I were to never converse with you again. Your words intrigue me, Victoria."

"Even actions can be erased from memory. Why would words matter?"

"They do, Victoria. They reflect your thoughts."

"And my thoughts matter..."

"Yes. Your thoughts represent you. And never doubt whether or not you matter."

Her eyes suddenly welled up with tears. His words affected her more than she wanted, more than her imprisonment allowed. Ever since the deaths of her parents, no one had told her that life has a purpose, that she continued living because there is an objective, that being who she is matters. Yet, he made her feel that even breathing is expressive. She thought she has experienced all emotions, turmoil and pains existed, but a new, unknown feeling crept into the uncertainty of her heart when he told her not to doubt. She thought that locking herself could prevent her from further sufferings, but he unknowingly brought hope into her life, telling her that life is not all suffering.

Holding back her tears, she spoke, "They think I am lonely in this place. They think I lead a meaningless life here. They merely think. But in reality, I am living in peace, free from the suffering and hunger of the world outside. Please, allow me to continue this peace."

"Do I bring chaos into your life, Victoria? Am I considered part of the outside world that you tried so hard to block?" He asked with urgency.

"I do not block it for I belong in it. Yet, it blocked me." She broke his eye contact.

With his forefinger pointing toward the door, he stated. "The exit is to your left and no one is preventing you."

She almost let out a laugh when their eyes met again, "The blockage is not physical."

"Then it's psychological. You were scarred from your past. But Victoria, the past happened. Do not let it affect your life more than it already has. Do not let it be your present, or your future. Let it find closure and bury the barrier that separates you from the rest of the world," He spoke softly yet firmly as he resisted the urge to comfort her with his touch.

"Think what you may," Victoria whispered before closing her eyes, a clear indication that she no longer wished to continue their conversation.

He quickly reported before Victoria would tune him out, "Doctor Chen stopped by when you were still sleeping. He informed me that it is indeed mycoplasmal pneumonia, a bacterial infection. Emma left to purchase your antibiotics. Your symptoms will get better after several weeks, but the coughing might extend to well over a month... When Emma comes back, you should take your medications," He paused. "I'll take my leave now."

Alexander turned back to face Victoria's bed before stepping out the door. She mattered, and perhaps more to him than anyone else. She was the first person he trusted without fully understanding who she is. He knew it wasn't only her imprisonment, her silence that intrigued him. And most of all, he knew that she was the reason his heart leapt into strong uncertainties.

Sighing, he left, once again unaware of when their next meeting would be.

* * * *

Could it be an enigma

A yearning

A need

That attracts me forward

Could it be a vision

Of wanting

Of longing

That holds me back

Could it be you

That dominates my thinking

Taking my breath

Luring me into the depth of your eyes

Could it be love?

## 6 – The Opened Doors

His footsteps slowed as he reached Ephemeral Street. Taking off his glasses, he gazed into the distance, toward a small window at the end of the block. He often stood there for a long period of time after work, hoping the beauty behind closed curtains would reveal herself. His wish was never fulfilled, but his feet never once passed by her house without stopping. It became his daily routine to seek inner peace and reflect near her presence. Unbeknownst to him, she, too, has been observing him from afar, through the tiny gap of her curtains. And each afternoon when he took leave, she would widen the gap and watched his retreating steps.

As night settled, Alexander prepared his lessons. But his notes of the thirteen fundamental personality types soon became sketches of vibrant, lonely eyes. Frustrated at his inability to focus, he hurried toward his windows and pushed them open, allowing gentle waves to brush against his face. The night breeze did not calm him, but instead, it beckoned him into its world of freedom, mystery, and passion. It guided him, and he followed it toward a dim light down the street. He could see, with his eyes closed, that a young lady was surrounded by thirteen lit candles. He could listen, with his ears shut, a young lady's whispers of birthday wishes. And soon, the light disappeared. He knew her nightly routine was performed.

Alexander returned to his desk, and instead of forcing his mind to concentrate on his lessons, he allowed his heart to govern. Lifting up his pen, he printed words onto her white card, with the same purity and sincerity of thoughts that the once empty card embodied. He carefully sealed it with his signature and smiled for the inner peace he sought finally found him worthy of it.

* * * *

Sunshine greeted his windowsill, promising a day of beauty. With confident footsteps, he walked to her home.

"Good morning, Emma."

She stopped watering the plants and turned around, "Greetings, young master. Should I tell Miss that you have come?"

"No. But please deliver this card for me."

Emma nodded and took the white card from his hand. The moment it met its recipient, the card revealed his words:

"Dearest Victoria,

"Has it all not been a dream? Did I not carry you within my arms? Did you not call for my presence? Did we not exchange our deepest thoughts?

"Did I not miss you?

"No. Nothing has been a dream for I am blessed with a reality far sweeter than dreams.

"I passed by your house each day, hoping that the grand doors would open and Emma would invite me in, under your instruction. But I went home each day, disappointed. And now, I realize I have forgotten the 'young living ghost'. I have forgotten your imprisonment. I have forgotten your blockage to the world. For these images were replaced by you, the Victoria I have come to admire, respect, and love.

"I hope you will not misinterpret my letter as being written in haste, but rather in earnest. I hope you will not misinterpret my feelings as irrational, but rather passionate. I hope one day, the grand doors will open for me...

"Truly yours,

"Alexander"

She held the card in front of her, confused. Not of its content, but of her own feelings. What was the meaning behind her emptiness each time he left? What was the meaning behind her longing for Emma to mention his name when she recited the daily occurrences? What was the meaning behind her watching him secretly from the window? The same as his? Because she has fallen in love? She turned to face Emma, as if the young, pretty face of her friend could answer her silent questions.

"Miss, I do not know what he wrote to you. But I do know he awaits you. Follow your heart, Miss," Emma spoke while gently holding Victoria's hands.

And finally, she smiled. Her gaze quickly averted toward the window to greet his handsome face. Hugging the letter closer to her heart, she instructed, "Emma, can you invite..." She stopped abruptly.

"Yes, Miss?"

Ignoring Emma's curious expression, she bounced off her bed and fled down the staircase. Her hands touched the doorknob that imprisoned her for endless years, hesitating. She knew opening the doors would mean ending her imprisonment. It would mean uncovering old wounds. And it would mean greeting the impossibilities... The doorknob slowly turned, and the door creaked open. His face slowly lowered down from the window to greet hers. They stood still, apart. But distance mattered not, for once the door opened, their hearts united and their souls intertwined. For once the door opened, the world to them had a new meaning.

"Thank you, Victoria."

"I simply am following the love that has beckoned upon me, Alexander."

Hearing her words, he smiled. She, too, smiled.

"I thought you were beautiful when I first saw you," He spoke as he inched closer to her. "Now, my definition of beauty must be redefined. Likewise, a smile isn't a smile if it isn't yours." He traced her lips with his fingers. His hand moved toward the back of her neck as he embraced her within his arms. Kissing the fresh scent of her hair, he whispered, "I love you."

"For years, I have been searching, wondering where I belong. Now, I know." She leaned back to look into his happy eyes, "Within your arms."

From afar, Emma smiled.

## 7 – The Road Less Traveled

Not a day passed without Alexander stopping by her home following work. It seemed the doors had a timing device in which awaited him each afternoon. The once lonely home of silent whispers, of vast remorse was now replaced with childish antics and laughter. Its windows remained wide open, waking Victoria up each morning as the sun reached the windowsill, cooling Victoria each afternoon with its gentle autumn breeze, and inviting Victoria into its world of fantasy and hope as sparkling stars greeted her each night. The house was now a picture of bliss, framed by happiness. The occupants became the epitome of innocent wisdom.

"You mean it was this big?" Victoria asked as she stretched her arms wide.

"No, only this much," he smiled and narrowed the distance between her two hands.

"And it didn't scare you?" She raised her eyebrows in mock suspicion.

He laughed while tucking a stranded hair behind her ear, "I thought that when I rescued you in that fire, you knew how brave I am!"

"And how nosy you are too, young master!" She countered, enjoying their usual discussion of his life while studying abroad.

Pinching her nose, he spoke, "Inquisitive would be the correct term, Miss."

Emma lightly knocked on the door and brought a tray of food to Victoria. After carefully requesting her to finish the dishes, she left to let Victoria under Alexander's care. Closing the doors behind her, she let out a content sigh as she noticed how Victoria's health had tremendously improved, and along with it came her long lost buoyancy. It seemed the Victoria she befriended one lonely night when she was ten had returned. Smiling, she came downstairs to the chores that awaited her.

As Victoria handed him the glass that was emptied of water, he hesitantly asked, "Victoria... do you ever wish to explore the world outside these walls?"

Her merry expression disappeared. At once, he regretted asking. Whilst looking down, he whispered, "Sorry, I thought..."

"Yes."

His head immediately lifted up as he greeted her eyes with a confused smile, "Pardon?"

"Will you be my guide?"

He nodded with pride, "Always."

* * * *

Night has fallen, but afraid she might change her mind the next day, he had rushed her outdoor to rejoice in the beauty of Nature. Hand-in-hand, they walked down Ephemeral Street. He stole side glances at her and secretly smiled.

She stopped. He feared.

"Victoria?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand reassuringly, "I never take back my words, Alexander."

"Then... do you not like this road? We can..."

Her finger hushed him from furthering, "No, I just want to walk barefoot. Will my sandals not be in the way of truly feeling Nature?"

He chuckled and bent down to take off her sandals. But he frowned suddenly, "This road is filled with gravels, Victoria. I don't want you to get hurt."

She shook her head, "The worst bleeding cannot be seen. I am not afraid of blood."

He stood up and cupped her face with his hands, "You're right. The worst bleeding cannot be seen. When your feet are stained with blood, would you feel my heart bleeding?" Sensing her inability to reply, he turned around and arched down, "Come, I'll give you a piggy back ride." Not feeling her weight on his back, he joked, "Don't worry Victoria, my back is made of steel."

Slowly, her hands stretched to touch his shoulders. Her head rested comfortably against his neck as she blushed at their intimate position. Her feet dangled from his sides as he ran down the street, laughing. Her embarrassment was quickly brushed away and she soon joined him in his pure mirth.

"Victoria, I thought the first day I'll give someone a piggy back ride is when I'm a father."

"Well Daddy, aren't you proud of me, your daughter?"

"Victoria, if people don't know better, they may think I'm old from contemplating your speech."

"Hmm... then I should call you grandpa!"

"Well, dearest grand-daughter, where do you wish to go?"

Her hands tightened around his neck. He felt her body leaned forward, shivering.

"Victoria?"

She buried her head upon his shoulder and he felt her hot tears.

"Victoria?"

The sandals dropped from her hands.

"Victoria!" He quickly lowered her against the wall and spun around to see her face - a face blank of emotions.

"Victoria? Please don't scare me."

She looked far into the distance, her tears gone. He turned her face to greet him, but she whispered harshly, "Let go of me."

Alexander stumbled back in shock, eyes turning red. She brushed past him and ran away. Away from her present. Away from her future. Away from her past. Images flashed in front of her: the clock striking seven, the slap on her face, the struggle, the screaming, the anger, the helplessness, the shame, and the horror all came back to haunt her. In front was the endless path of Ephemeral Street, but she could only see herself trapped in a corner, engulfed in her own darkness and powerlessness under his strength. Her feet were bleeding, but she could only feel her tears, stained with dust, with her lost pride. She ran with all her might, as she did years ago. And Heaven cried with her, singing the same familiar tune of yesteryears' sorrow. Unable to keep her balance, Victoria fell onto the ground.

"Victoria!"

He hurried toward her side, holding her within his warm embrace. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment, and she fainted, after whispering his name.

"Victoria!!"

He immediately swept her into his arms and ran toward the hospital.

"Victoria, let nothing be wrong with you!"

He hurried down the white hallway, frantically calling for Dr. Chen.

"Victoria, you must be okay. I will not let anything happen to you!"

He settled her onto the hospital's bed.

"Victoria, please don't punish me."

The nurses rushed him outside and his view was separated by white curtains.

"Please God, I pray to you. Please, spare Victoria her life. Take mine if you wish, but never Victoria's. Please, never Victoria. Please..."

The curtains were pulled opened and he hurriedly claimed Dr. Chen's shoulders, "How is she? Tell me she's all right!"

"Please calm down, Alexander. Her pneumonia has yet completely recovered, and you allowed her to walk in this chilly air." Seeing Alexander's crestfallen face, the doctor smiled, "She'll be okay."

"My fault. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have suggested the night walk! I shouldn't have. I shouldn't..."

* * * *

With faltering steps, he came to her side. Without meeting his eyes, she articulated, "I've spent my life running away. I've spent my life seeking for the right home. But the past always came to haunt me, emerging as my present. When I embraced you that morning, I thought I have finally found peace. But... peace does not find me worthy."

He shook his head to disagree, but not a word escaped his lips.

"Do you think you understand me, Alexander?"

He shook his head once more.

She smiled wanly, "Yet you said you love me."

He looked into her eyes, "I do not understand Tori. I do not know her past, her struggles. But I understand Victoria, and I know her future."

Their eyes locked. She searched within their depth for truth, for honesty, and she found both. But she was unwilling to believe he understood the person in front of him.

"Victoria, please believe in me, in you... in us."

She looked away, her attention captivated by the landscape outside her window. As she closed her eyes, Victoria murmured softly, "Ask Professor Wu about my uncle."

* * * *

He nervously knocked on Professor Wu's office.

"It's open," the monotonic voice responded.

Professor Wu looked up from his piles of papers and smiled, "How may I help you, Professor?"

"I hope you don't mind, it's personal," Alexander closed the doors.

"If my mind is still sharp, then this must be about Victoria," He nodded decidedly and placed his pen down. "Take a seat."

Alexander began, "Last night, she told me to ask you about her uncle."

A frown became apparent upon Professor Wu's face as he sighed inwardly, "I thought there won't ever be the day for me to share this story. Yet... I am glad Victoria has found a worthy listener."

"Please, do tell me."

"Do you love her?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you love her?" Professor Wu repeated with the same solemn expression.

"Yes. Very much."

Satisfied with Alexander's answer, Professor Wu cleared his throat, "Young man, you will not like what you're about to hear. But it is necessary for you to know because she loves you dearly..." He paused. "You have described Victoria as an enigma. Do you recall your words?"

"Yes. 'She is an enigma. And yet, not a mystery I want to solve. For when there is a solution, a conclusion, the enigma is no longer'."

"Right. An enigma. Those three sentences were what she had said to describe her uncle. But the circumstance in which made her realize that truth was far different from yours. Hers was more painful, more sorrowful, more unpleasant."

Silence.

"You may think I'm too verbose, but in fact, I am afraid. I am frightened to speak of her past even though it follows me till this day, like a shadow. The image of Tori fainting before my eyes at the corner of Ephemeral Street - her frail body covered in torn attire - arrested my heart at once..." He paused, "Promise me one thing, Professor."

Alexander nodded his head.

"A fire ablaze within her heart. Don't let it extinguish."

Again, Alexander nodded.

"Tori was twelve back then, but already a bright and beautiful young adult. She has a surprising talent of consoling others, especially her father whenever he failed a business transaction. She treated her uncle with the same demeanor, always being there for him, always reaching out. When she learned that he was forced to announce bankruptcy, she blessed him with her comforting presence. But he seemed unaware of reality, drenched in alcohol. And that night... at the corner of Ephemeral Street, on her way home, Tori... Tori lost her maidenhood."

He shook his head violently, allowing his throat to form the most desperate cry. Unable to control his emotions, Alexander punched his fist against the nearby wall. "Why?!? She was only twelve. She was merely twelve!! Why? Tell me WHY?!"

Professor Wu placed a comforting arm on his shoulder, "Tori... was never merely twelve. Her brain and heart matured beyond that, and no one regarded her as a child. She comforted her uncle when he failed. And he... He repaid her with disgrace, with unthinkable actions! Her only fault was that she was too kind, too understanding, and too vulnerable."

A dry laugh muffled his tears as he tried making sense of the situation, "Why must God be so cruel? She deserves none of this!" His hand formed a tighter fist as he hit his own forehead, wishing he wasn't so entirely useless.

"Don't punish yourself, Professor. If you cannot forgive the past, how will you teach Victoria to?"

He turned to face Professor Wu. Uncertainties roamed his eyes. He nodded undecidedly and chuckled, "Forgive..." Another dry laugh escaped his lips. "That is how this world functions, right? You commit a sin, and you're forgiven. Then you commit another sin, expecting forgiveness once more. Is this the cycle?" He raised his voice and asked, "Tell me, Professor Wu, is this the cycle?!?!"

"The answer lies in your heart, Professor. Don't disappoint Victoria," patting Alexander's shoulder, Professor Wu left his office.

As he heard the door shut, Alexander closed his eyes and allowed scorching tears to traverse his face, hoping they could burn his anger and renew his courage.

* * * *

He reached out to touch her hand, the warmth now shivered in cold. His thumb massaged her palm back and forth, gently, offering her his warmth. Even in deep slumber, he noticed her eyebrows were creased together. She was afraid. And so was he. Her breathing uneven, her forehead sweating, and he realized her symptoms returned, along with the past that will haunt her. That will haunt him. His right hand reached her face as he dried her invisible tears, choking back his own.

"Victoria, I cannot understand your pain. But I do feel it. I wasn't there for you when you most needed someone. But forever will I remain by your side. Please allow me to travel this road with you."

He brought her hand to his lips, "I love you. Please do not push me away."

A gentle hand touched his shoulder and he nodded in understanding. Before leaving, he whispered, "Be strong for her, Emma." And he knew, without looking back, that the faithful friend whose tears were flowing, nodded her head.

The moment the door clicked close, Victoria whispered, "Will you not look back once we've begun this journey? Will you not ever regret knowing me? Will love be enough to sustain?"

## 8 – The Wilting Petals

His eyes scanned the hospital. Walls of painted green enclosed him as muted light peeked through petite windows. Its gloomy appearance was contrasted with paintings of peaceful scenery, strategically hung. Standing in the middle of the hallway, he recalled noises and shades of red whirling around him. Screaming. Blood. He grabbed his temples; his eyes closed in fury; his head violently shaking. He refused to listen to the reservoir of his memories. His dark past. But he could not escape the images of their last battle for life. They reached out, calling their daughter's name in hoarse whispers. The little hands clasped tightly onto bigger ones, each teardrop seeped into wrinkled skin. And they let go. His eyes brusquely opened. His feet spun around as beads of sweat began their vertical path from his brows. Like a misty fog, his figment of memory faded, and disappeared.

A quiet knock was heard.

Acknowledging Victoria's nod, Emma asked the visitor to enter, while carefully placing a hot towel onto Victoria's forehead.

"Miss," his voice was soft and shaky of hesitation.

She jerked her head at the familiar tone. Emma's eyes widened.

"Jacob."

Her aloof tone directed his eyes to the ground, "Miss, I... I..."

"Please go."

He finally looked up to greet her eyes.

"I... I came to give you this." Slowly, his palm opened, revealing an intricate, jade comb.

She immediately sat up, ignoring her weariness, and held onto the object endearingly, "My... my mother's!"

"Yes. I kept it for nine years, hoping to one day have a chance in returning it to you," he paused. "I'm sorry it took this long."

Eyes shined with sincere gratitude, she thanked him. Nodding with tears, the old man walked away, clutching onto his cane.

"Wait."

He shook his head, "I can't, Miss. I can't look at you for another second without feeling guilty. I can't be here, witnessing this. I don't deserve to see your grateful eyes. Let it be what it used to be. I would be more comfortable that way. I would be comfortable knowing that your innocent eyes are always staring at me... punishing me."

"Then let me be innocent no more. I do not have the will to punish others."

He raised his voice, "If only you do, Miss! Then, I won't have to be the one punishing myself. Then, I may begin to forgive myself."

"You have begun that process, Jacob. Otherwise, you would not have faced me today."

He turned around, "I'm sorry, Miss. I truly am."

She smiled, "I know."

He directed his attention toward Emma, "Miss Tong, I did not recognize you the other day at the market. Please pardon my behavior."

Though her eyes still conveyed resentment, Emma slowly nodded.

Jacob left with these departing words: "Please be well, Miss Yeung."

At once, Emma raced to the door, tracing his retreating footsteps with her eyes, as if willing him from running away, as he did years back. But the steps furthered; the clanking sound faded. Disappointed, Emma slumped back to her former position, "How did he dare ask for pardon? I could forgive his nasty remarks at the market. But how... how could I forget what he had done years ago? How could you?"

Eyes still glued onto the jade comb, Victoria smiled, "Promises can be fulfilled. Burdens can be lifted."

"These words... they're..."

Victoria interrupted, "Did the flowers in our garden bloom already?"

"Pardon?"

Emma followed her gaze to the bouquet of jasmines and grinned, "Young master stopped by today, but you were fast asleep."

Absent-mindedly, Victoria continued, "Mother loved jasmines and although Father was never an artistic man, he had spent months painting these petals onto her jade comb. Mother treasured it above all and told me time and time again she would bequeath the comb to me when I turn eighteen. But I see Mother had not kept her promise for I am twenty-two. The petals now faded. Are they wilting, Emma?"

"No matter how beautiful a flower is, its beauty can only last if there is beauty in its holder. Likewise, a wilted petal can still be radiant and dazzling."

Victoria turned to her friend and laughed, "Emma, since when did you adopt such a sweet tongue?"

"Oh Miss, don't you go make fun of me," Emma playfully hit Victoria's hand and suddenly, her tone turned serious. "When Madame Yeung left, I promised to be your companion and maid."

With a faraway look, Victoria asked, "Emma, do you believe in Heaven?"

"I... I really don't know."

"If there is one, what do you think my parents are doing now?"

"They're blessing you, Miss."

Beaming, Victoria replied, "Heaven is where the heart is. There's no definite place a person goes after death. But their spirits remained with loved ones. Mom and Dad are in Heaven, in my heart. Always. And for this reason, Emma, I don't blame Jacob. He did not separate them from me. No one did."

Emma gave Victoria's hand a comforting squeeze, her meager attempt to fill the void of Victoria's life.

"Miss, may I ask a question?"

"What is it?"

"Have you... also forgiven Master Lam?"

Victoria's eyes turned toward the ceiling, hypnotized by the moving fan, "I'm sure Mother would prefer you to be my friend; don't address me as 'Miss'."

* * * *

His whistles penetrated the calm, autumn breeze, as Professor Lam walked away from the University, nodding his greetings to passerby now and then. His tune, both lively and youthful, articulated his eagerness, his excitement, in seeing her. He wanted to recount his day, to share his experiences with attentive ears, with eyes that speak, and with a voice that soothes. Simply, he wanted to be within his beloved's presence.

Upon entering the hospital, the tune slowed down, halting. Nurses and physicians rushed frantically, pushing past the bawling Emma, heading toward his beloved's ward.

The tune ended.

"Emma! What happened?"

She shook her head and hiccupped tears.

"Tell me what happened!" He grasped her shoulders.

"Please young master, help her! I can't lose her. She's my only family."

His grip loosened as he studied her frightened face, wet with tears. Enveloping her into an encouraging hug, he whispered, "Emma, you will always have Victoria. You will always have us."

Emma nodded against his shoulder. Abruptly, he broke their contact and ran toward the entry doors.

"Young master!"

Ignoring her cries, Alexander raced outside. Running away from or running toward, he did not know. He just knew it mattered not what fate had planned for him; his heart wanted to beat with hers. From outside the window, he looked in. Slowly, his hand reached for the glass that separated them. His thoughts pushed away the team of nurses and doctors that prevented his vision from her pallid face. He feared. He feared the once psychological blockage has now turned physical. Uncontrollable.

"Victoria, please do not let go," he closed his eyes and Heaven cried with him a woeful rhythm.

* * * *

As soon as Dr. Chen emerged behind the wooden door, Emma rushed inside.

"She's asleep right now," the elder physician greeted Alexander.

"Doctor, what is going on?"

"We will perform a sweat test as we have reasons to believe Miss Yeung's condition is not due to pneumonia alone."

"Wh... what then is causing all these symptoms?"

Watching Alexander's nervous eyes, filled with hesitation, with trepidation, the doctor heaved in a deep breath, "Alexander, we suspect Miss Yeung may have cystic fibrosis."

An absolute silence, followed by a cry.

"No... No!" He shook his head slowly and stepped back, "This can't be! It just can't!" His head buried within trembling hands, he choked, "Please, don't take Victoria away from me."

Inside, the bouquet of jasmines began wilting...

## 9 – Revealed

He paced back and forth in front of Dr. Chen's office. Since five hours ago, he has reigned this empty space, waiting anxiously for the lab results, for a mere piece of paper that would dictate Victoria's future... his future. Seeing a figure cloaked in white approaching, Alexander heaved in a deep sigh and held his eyes opened, despite his wanting to never face this reality.

"Is it... positive?" He addressed the doctor with reserved hope.

"Alexander, I..." Feeling at lost for words for the very first time during his professional years, Dr. Chen cut his speech short, and instead, handed Alexander the results. Without having to cast a glance on the documents at hand, he knew - Victoria has cystic fibrosis.

Dr. Chen continued, "Alexander, I do recommend a second opinion on this."

He nodded absent-mindedly and left. His eyes, formerly void of emotions, finally gave in as he blinked back tears. His footsteps heavy, he slowly made his way toward her ward. He closed the door quietly behind him and advanced near her bed. Noticing her blanket in disarray, Alexander tugged at her cover, only to realize his motion caused her to stir.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

She squinted, and the moment her eyes registered his haggard face, she stated, "You haven't slept."

"Shh... You don't have to worry about me. Go back to sleep," He reached beneath her blanket to place his hand on top of hers, "I just want to hold your hands, Victoria. Now go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

She wanted to protest, but feeling lethargic, she nodded her head lazily and closed her eyes.

He firmly squeezed her hand and thought to himself, "Victoria... I have never felt so helpless, so frightened and lost. It scares me to know I cannot predict tomorrow's destiny. It pains me that I cannot do anything for you."

A teardrop fell onto her hand as he kissed its delicate fingers, "Victoria, why... Why am I so weak when with you?"

* * * *

"Professor Wu," Alexander greeted as he entered the Psychology Department.

"Professor Lam! Why, aren't you a bit early today?"

"Actually, I did not come to teach," Alexander spoke whilst stepping forward.

He glanced at Professor Lam's informal attire and lack of briefcase, "Pardon?"

"Professor Wu, I would like to ask for an extended absence."

The elder professor knitted his brows and immediately inquired, "What's wrong with Victoria?"

His voice, an audible whisper, softly spoke, "Professor, she was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis."

"It's... Incurable?"

Alexander nodded.

"Professor, leave your class to my supervision, and worry only of Victoria."

This time, the young professor's nod was accompanied with a slight grin, "Thank you."

"Are you heading back to the hospital?" Once Alexander answered, Professor Wu continued, "Would you mind leading me there?"

* * * *

The moment Emma noticed young master Lam's footsteps, she immediately ran toward him, "Young master, I need a word with you, please."

Alexander nodded while addressing Professor Wu, "I'm certain Victoria would be glad to see you. Please excuse me as I'll have to join you later."

Professor Wu patted Alexander's shoulder and quietly entered Victoria's ward.

"How are you, my child?"

A smile hinted through her tone as she addressed him, "Professor Wu."

"My Victoria, how relieved I am to hear you call my name. I thought my abundant grey hair would distort my image within your eyes, and you could no longer recognize me."

"You're still the same, Professor."

"You, my child, have changed," He came closer to her bed and placed his hand upon her wrist endearingly. "There seems to be a heavier burden upon your shoulder. But despite so, you welcome this burden."

"Am I not silly, Professor?" She spoke with an effort to laugh.

He winked back at her, "You're not silly. You're simply in love."

"I won't deny that. The days in which I've locked myself, I have read many novels. Twice. I envy each character for their lives full of dreams, of bliss, and of pain. I yearn for their passion, their ideals. But now that my wish is granted, I want to ask why it came so late. Why give me love when I shall die?"

"Are you afraid of death, my child?"

Slowly, but with certainty, she shook her head, "I am not afraid of death for I cannot feel pain when I cease to exist. But pain... will find the waking ones. Professor, I'm not afraid of dying; I'm afraid of the consequence of death. He... will suffer, but I cannot share his woe, for I am its cause." She paused, and continued, "Emma... she deserves a better friend."

"And yourself... my child, you deserve a better destiny."

"Perhaps Alexander had truly cured me. Not only am I now leaving my home, I am leaving it... forever."

* * * *

Emma led Alexander to an unfamiliar corridor, "Young master, I didn't want Miss to overhear our conversation."

"What is it that is so urgent and secretive?"

"I will have to be direct. We are running out of money, young master. The hospital fees, we..."

Alexander broke his first smile for the day, "Is that all?"

"Miss... Will Miss be fine?"

He shook his head, "I... I really don't know, Emma."

Her face lowered; her tears profusely flowed as she walked away.

"Emma."

She stopped, but did not answer him; her sobbing continued.

"Before, how did you pay for your and Victoria's living expenses?"

"I don't know exactly, young master. But on the first day of each month, a yellow envelope lies on our front steps. Within is enough money to last us the next thirty days. That envelope never gives away the identity of its sender. And although I had no intention in spending the fortune, it was the only choice. We had no money."

"Does Victoria know?"

"I kept this from Miss since I know she would disapprove. All these while, she thought her parents had left behind enough. Please, don't let her know."

Alexander sighed, "Another secret to keep, isn't it? Is it not possible to be completely honest? Emma, why is Victoria so frightened in revealing her past, even to me?"

She shook her head, "Miss did not want to tell you not because she was afraid, but because she loves you. She hesitates because..."

"My father. My father was involved, wasn't he, Emma?"

She nodded.

* * * *

Professor Wu strolled toward her window and heaved in a sigh. He, too, felt himself inadequate when facing Victoria's fate.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "I came here to give you strength. But, I've failed."

"No, Professor. Your presence alone is strength and encouragement to me for I know you will always be the one who understands me most."

Professor Wu chuckled, creasing the folds beneath his eyes, "My dear, don't let Alexander be jealous of me." He kissed her forehead and continued, "I can't leave the class unattended for too long. But I promise to visit often. And Victoria, you must promise to get well."

Professor Wu hurriedly left, even when Victoria has yet given her promise, for he knew she was incapable of it. In his rush, he bumped into a vaguely familiar face.

"Mr. Lam?"

Upon hearing his name being addressed, the elder gentleman immediately paced away. Through the tiny gap of her door, Victoria witnessed the awkward encounter.

* * * *

Emma continued walking forward, as if furthering their distance would make the horrid nightmare an easier tale to recall.

"I was ten when Miss turned thirteen. That night, it was raining heavily. All grey clouds gathered to threaten the sky, as if foretelling the fated events to take place. I was sitting alone in the middle of the road, having nowhere else to go. Shivering in the cold with tattered clothes, I questioned my own future, or if it has ever belonged to me, especially after my only kin passed away from hunger. Suddenly, a vibrant beam of light shined directly toward me, giving the illusion of a morning sun emitting its rays. Those headlights belonged to the Yeung's car.

"As soon as I readjusted my eyes, a little girl stepped out, her mother shielding the rain for her with an umbrella. I recall her introducing her name while shaking my hands, as I did the same. She then turned to her mother and politely asked, 'Mommy, I don't have anything to give Emma. May I give away one of my birthday presents?' As Madame Yeung nodded her head, Victoria immediately handed me a hairpin with the shape of a butterfly, enclosed in a box of velvet color. I refused such a friendly gesture, but she insisted, 'No Emma, it's a token of friendship, so you must take it.' I stared at the treasure and pushed it away, 'But Miss, I have nothing to return your generosity.' Victoria cheerfully beamed, 'Then give me a birthday greeting and a hug.' Touched at her sincerity, I embraced her and wished her endless bliss. Miss was very happy that night.

"The Yeung's invited me to join their daughter's birthday celebration. On our way there, Miss was delirious with joy. I never knew that after our first meeting, I would never be able to hear her contagious laugh again. She never once questioned my identity nor cared about my simple attire. Instead, she told me of all the places she'd take me, including those she had visited and those only in her dreams. Perhaps it was her enthusiastic spirit that made me feel belonged and acquainted.

"Right at the moment in which our friendship bloomed, in which we tasted happiness, everything was snatched away... It was too chaotic; I can't remember exactly the details anymore. But that loud, screeching noise forever rang in my ears, along with the screaming from Madame Yeung. The car flew into midair, and the brave arms of Madame Yeung covered our bodies. A strong thud alerted our landing. Master Yeung reached out for his wife and daughter, but before he could give any last remarks, he died an immediate death. Before giving her last breath, Madame Yeung asked me to let no harm happen to Victoria. I could only nod at her, and hugged Miss. That night, only two innocent children survived the crash. Tainted innocence. That night, not only did I promise to be by Miss' side forever, but also vowed to never resolve my hatred with the ruthless driver. I cannot forgive he who not only killed two people, but also a child's soul when witnessing her parents' deaths right in front of her eyes, at the age of thirteen."

She turned around and faced him, "That man was Master Lam."

He stepped back, "My father."

## 10 – To Live

He stumbled backward and ran away from the hospital. He was suffocating from questions pounding on top of questions, circulating his mind. Alexander Lam was demanding for answers. And this thirst carried him to his father's company - the haven of proud, confident, and determined Master Lam. He wondered, as he continued racing against the gravels, if he would greet the same composed man who he had spent idolizing over the years.

"Young master, what a surprise to find you here!" Henry greeted him as Alexander slowed down for breath, "It seems to be of great urgency, young master?"

"Yes, Henry. Do you know if my father is in his office?"

"He is indeed. I am heading there myself."

Alexander glanced at the book within Henry's hand and asked, "You won't mind if I take the accounting book to him myself, Henry?"

"I..." He hesitated but quickly grinned and handed over the book, "Of course, young master."

When Henry was no longer in sight, Alexander swiftly turned the pages and found what he expected. On the first of each month, the exact grand sum was withdrawn from his father's account. Realization struck him, but his face held no reaction. There was no sign of understanding, neither joy nor pain as he walked the empty path toward his father's office. Nearing the mahogany doors, the voices projected from within shocked him:

"Tell me, Master, was there a day in which you felt no remorse? And when dusk came, were you able to sleep without nightmares?"

"Stop. Don't. Don't talk about it!"

"Can you see their tears? Can you hear their screams?"

"I said STOP!"

Jacob let out a loud chuckle, "Did I interrupt your peace, Master? Did I unveil that mask of pretense you tried so hard to wear?"

"Jacob, get straight to the point. What do you want from me?"

"Your dignity."

Master Lam looked up.

"Your righteousness. Your courage. Your integrity. Master, when will you face the truth?"

Master Lam stared straight ahead, not at Jacob, but into the emptiness that felt like a reflection of himself.

The voice of Jacob continued, "I could never forget that night. It was raining and the roads were slippery. I was your driver back then, but that night, you were the one behind the wheel. You were the one who robbed two lives, but I was sent to jail. On your behalf, Master, I became a danger to society and had to be imprisoned."

"Jacob, you should know that..."

"That I ought to be thankful for your generosity!" Jacob immediately interjected. "During those years, you financially supported my family with no complaints, no reservations. Of course, my mom didn't need a son to tend to her illness, my wife didn't need a husband to care for her, and my children didn't need a father to educate them. They only needed your money, right? And of course, Victoria, too, needed your money more than the warmth from her parents."

Master Lam closed his eyes as the sarcasm spat in his face. "I have tried." He sighed, "I know those monthly sums cannot..."

Suddenly, the wide doors flung open. Master Lam and Jacob turned to the screaming of Alexander, "Do you honestly think money can resolve the problem?"

Master Lam lowered his head, not in affirmation, but in self-reproach.

"First the Yeung's, then Victoria, then Jacob, and now... me. Father, whose lives will you ruin next?"

Master Lam stepped away from his desk, approaching his son, "Alexander, you must know that that night, I..."

"No! Do not explain. Don't surround yourself within walls of excuses. Don't let me loathe you more than this."

"Listen to me!" Master Lam demanded, his voice rising in anger.

"No, I can't obey your orders any longer, Master Lam."

With that sentence, his son walked out of his office. Out of his life.

* * * *

He led himself to a railroad track nearby, without consciousness. He had his answer - the truth that found himself condemning his own father. He wanted an escape, to be walking an endless path. But at the sight of three birds chirping above him, he stopped. Alexander grinned in mockery of his own life, which has been reduced to lower than that of an animal within mere hours. He has no family any longer. But looking straight ahead, at two trails that met in the middle upon the horizon, he knew he must move forward. He must be absent of pain, and focus only on her.

He was willing to sacrifice anything for her. Anything. But he knew no sacrifices could change her past - or his father's involvement - and none could change her destined future. 'Or lack thereof,' he mused silently. He raked his hair harshly, feeling the violent wind blowing at full blast against his face. And he knew, he must fight, even if it was a losing battle.

* * * *

As soon as the sun peaked beyond the horizon, Victoria rose to her alertness.

"Alexander?" She leaned forward. "Why are you kneeling beside my bed? Were you here all night, in this position?"

He kept his silence, and she understood.

"Your kneeling cannot erase what took place years ago. You cannot replace the man responsible for my parents' deaths."

He kept his silence, still.

"You once told me that each action carries with it a purpose, but I see none in your kneeling," she sternly spoke.

"Victoria," his eyes met hers. "I know I cannot ask for your forgiveness as neither can I give it to Father."

"Alexander, do you think I have abandoned myself from this world out of vengeance? If hatred still lives in me, I would make sure your father pay his consequence in the name of justice."

"I cannot share your woes of losing your closest kin. I cannot hate with you, or forgive with you. But myself, I cannot accept a father who has caused you so many years of loneliness."

"But didn't you come to me? Didn't you brush that loneliness away?"

"Did I, Victoria? Then explain to me why I must learn of your past through the views of others, and never yours."

She reached for his hand and held it firmly, "Allow me one day with you, Alexander. I will share with you secrets I've never told. I still recall on our first encounter, you have told me you wish to explore this Earth to its edge. I am not capable of doing that with you, but do let me join your expedition just for one day. I want to be with you, in a setting other than this."

"But Victoria, your condition..."

"I'm dying, Alexander."

Her three, simple words froze his state of mind. Her frankness appalled him; her truth anguished him with pain. Pain and fury - the two emotions co-existed ever since last night. He felt the muscles in his stomach twitching, in resistance to tears, in concentrated anger.

She squeezed his hand, "Please, don't let me pass away with remorse. I don't want to spend my last days confined to these walls. Won't you grant my simple wish?"

"I must ask Dr. Chen's opinion, Victoria."

"I already have."

"What do you mean?"

"During his routine visit, I asked him to speak truthfully of my condition. I gave him permission to seek for second opinions on my case. Each doctor in this and neighboring towns confirmed I have cystic fibrosis." She repeated, "I'm dying, Alexander."

* * * *

His jacket on her shoulders, he held her within his arms. Her eyebrows were creased, not of determination, but of pain. Her lips pursed together, not of exquisite red, but of pale purple. Behind them, acres of land and trees stretched peacefully. Before them, the river smoothly flowed. That day, Alexander was given the permission to question his beloved on any and all topics, to satisfy each of his curiosities about her youth, and her imprisoned years.

"What is your deepest wish, Victoria?"

"I view myself as a complex woman, but my desires are plain and simple. I have but only one hope - to be normal."

"But for a complex individual such as you, 'normal' holds a different definition."

"Does it?"

"Tell me of your dream."

"To love and be loved. To have a family to call my own. To be a wife and mother. And if these visions cannot be mine, let me paint them with the same passion, ardor, and sentiments as if I have experienced them."

"Some paint with musical notes; some paint with brushes. What would be your tool, Victoria?"

"You."

Although she did not face him, she knew his eyebrows were raised in confusion and interest.

"Promise me, Alexander, that when I leave, you will keep my hope alive. You will paint my visions, and frame that painting with the most deserving woman, with she whom you love."

"Then I must paint it now, for the woman I love is before me."

She continued, as if not hearing his answer, "Promise me, Alexander, that you will treasure that painting most, not because they were my visions, but because of the woman who framed it with you."

"Victoria, I will treasure that painting for both reasons, as both women are one."

"Alexander, please do not mock my incapability."

"I want you to be clear of one thing, Victoria, and that is I will not embrace another woman."

"Was it really you who had told me to move on? Then who is he now who's stubbornly allowing himself to be trapped within the past?"

"The past? Aren't we living in the present, dearest?"

"But why live when we cannot face the future?"

"I am not hiding from it, Victoria. I am facing it with my own integrity. I will not lie to myself only to comfort you that I will move on after your absence. I will not lie and say I will find love, laughter, and hope again. I will not lie that I will become a man with purpose. I will not lie, even at the cost of hurting you with my honesty."

She inclined her head in silent understanding, and followed her gaze toward the trajectory of a white butterfly fluttering nearby. She has always loved the color white for its purity and innocence. But at that moment, the butterfly looked ghastly pale, as if it, too, like her, will be fading into the world's darkness. A pang of regret greeted her as she realized the butterfly's vicious cycle: to be born and sheltered as a cocoon, to mature and spread its wings toward life's adventures, to be battered, beaten, as layer after layer of innocence peeled away, and when the butterfly stood naked to face the world's callousness with courage, it would be robbed of its life.

"What will become of you, Alexander?" Her voice was of a whisper.

"Simply a man of despair."

"Is that what I am worth, Alexander? You were a man of confidence, of purpose, of mindfulness before meeting me. And the consequence of our love is a man of despair? Am I not worthy of something more?"

After a long silence, he found his voice, "I promise you to live for my ideals, my ambitions, and principles. But never demand of me to live for love that is not ours."

She snuggled closer against his body and whispered, "Promise me you will be happy."

He did not answer her, but looked far into the distance, wondering why he had spent so many years seeking for life's purpose, for truth, for answers. He had spent hours sketching the years ahead of him - what achievements and lessons he should realize and at what age. He knew, with perfect clarity that the future cannot be foreseen, that life's path is not free of obstacles, and that he will not be able to accomplish all he desired. Despite so, he had always lived with a goal in mind, striving to conquer his next quest. But at this moment, he was no longer aware of what goal he was to pursue.

"Victoria, what is an ideal husband, to you?"

She leaned backward to look at his face and grinned at the sudden question, "I... I wouldn't know. But I suppose my father was one."

He smiled back at her, quietly acknowledging his interest in knowing more about her father.

"He was a silly and clumsy man. But he knows how to love and cherish Mother - with sincerity." She laughed as the memories unfolded, "My mom was a very light sleeper, which was a disastrous problem as Dad snores throughout the night. She kept complaining that her already frail body was getting thinner and thinner from lack of sleep. But the next three days, she couldn't stop praising him about staying so quiet. Dad finally revealed, 'How can one snore when one didn't sleep?' I remember how Mother was in awe at that moment, and how she made him swear never to sacrifice his sleep for hers. And then there was one occasion in which Mom was sick when Dad was away on a business trip. Upon hearing the news, he took the four hours ride home just to cook her a bowl of congee, spoon fed her, gave her medicines, and left the house as fast as possible to catch the next train and be present at his meeting. He was a man who never once forgot to shower us with love and joy."

Alexander gazed down at Victoria, feeling a radiant pleasure spreading from her voice. She sounded like a teenage girl, flaunting her pride of having the best father in the world. And he silently thanked the man he never met to have granted Victoria this moment of peace and serenity, who bestowed upon him a little sense of envy for not having been his own father. Master Lam was the man who expected perfection in everything, who attained many high achievements and success. He was the intelligent man Alexander looked up to during his youth. But Alexander has always seen him as a man, not a father. While other fathers taught their sons sports, his sent him to the city for a better education. While other fathers taught their sons the highest virtues and values, his sent him to another country for a diploma. His father gave him knowledge, but never warmth. Alexander almost caught himself in a fit of mocked laughter, realizing how bad it would have been had Master Lam taught him man's character instead of intelligence.

Reading his thoughts, Victoria urged, "Forgive your father, Alexander. It was a genuine accident."

"I can forgive his mistake. But I cannot forgive his cowardice, shunning away from his own responsibility and consequence. He forbade your name to be mentioned, fearing the details from that night would trail his thoughts. He could not face even himself."

"Then I am a coward." He turned to look at her, and she continued, "I hid not only the truth from everyone, but also myself. I could not face the world. Am I not a coward?"

"You hid the truth for you did not want to hurt others; you did not want to hurt... my father. And you hid yourself for it was your only way of receiving comfort, of retaining innocence. You were brave, especially when you were only thirteen."

She leaned her head upon his shoulder and he tightened his arms around her.

"Was I?"

"Yes," he affirmed.

Their hands intertwined as Alexander and Victoria marveled at the view in front of them - the sun setting down. Its vibrant colors blended the sky in violent harmony - each shade complimented one another in naked contrast, but yet, still remained unique, individual hues. A bright circle dominated the sky's center, illuminating a glorious glow, and finally surrendered to the impending darkness.

"Alexander?"

"Hmm?"

"You've never given me a gift."

Alexander laughed and imagined her pouting at him, "Why don't you reach into my jacket's left pocket?"

She hid her childish grin and did as told. She felt a cold, tingly sensation and pulled out a necklace. Its pendant was made of pure diamond structured into the shape of a jasmine; the sparkles matched that of her own eyes. She turned around and placed the necklace onto his palm, of which he at once clasped around her neck. She pecked him softly on his lips and returned to her former position, hiding her broadening smile. Their breaths mingled with the evening's breeze. And she knew, her deepest wish was no longer to be normal. Replacing it was a desire much simpler, but much harder to deserve - the desire of living. Victoria Yeung wanted to live.

## 11 – A Marriage Proposal

Alexander's grin became contagious to those around him. Clad in a black suit, a dozen of red roses held behind his back, his lips danced with various joyous tunes, Alexander Lam was a picture of a teenager out on his first date. And albeit the man was no teenager, tonight was indeed his first official date. He laughed, recollecting his previous twenty-four hours in the company of his love, which ended with him asking her to dinner the following day. He had planned a private meal just for the two of them, but she assured him that she was ready to face the public, to dine amongst the merriment of others. He recalled her furthering, "Tomorrow, don't come for me Alexander. I like to experience the feeling of having a man wait for me at the corner of a restaurant. And don't be surprised if I come late."

5:45PM. He arrived fifteen minutes early, in hopeful anticipation. His smile widened, though not physically able as his muscles were over-stretched. Then suddenly, he chuckled aloud, unable to resist his bursting joy. Hours ago, he re-accessed his list of goals. As they lay before him, he realized how little they mean to him now, how lacking in substance. Grabbing his pen, he crossed the long list with a big "X" and replaced it with one short sentence. That night, his goal was to become a husband. He grinned again, and held tighter onto the velvet box facing him. Underneath was his proposal letter.

6:00PM. He glanced at his watch and smiled, knowing she would let him wait awhile more, prolonging his agony. With indefinite minutes to spare, Alexander began walking down the mental road of loving memories. When he first held her within his arms, there was a sudden urge that captivated him - the urge to pursue and comprehend, along with a longing of lost warmth. She gave him that pursuing chance when she fell ill with pneumonia. But it wasn't until the following days of not seeing her that he realized his heart had been beating to a different rhythm. It called to him in the name of passion, and leapt him into unknown boundaries. He knew he was in love. The image of her opening the grand doors, welcoming him into her world, and smiling within his embrace was a constant reminder of their new beginning. These moments of happiness were made possible by a simple, white card that embodied his confessions. And that is why, tonight, his proposal was on paper, too.

The waiter called out to him, interrupting his thoughts, "Young master Lam?"

"Yes?" His smile never left his face.

"I was informed to give you this," spoke the waiter again as he handed a card to Alexander.

The card was grey and blank. He at once knew, without asking, that it was from his beloved. He muttered a quick "When?" toward the waiter and upon knowing that the card was delivered early this morning, Alexander sprang from his chair, rushing down Ephemeral Street. The words from Professor Wu echoed in the recess of his mind: "Tori once told me grey to her meant sadness." Alexander refused the tears that wished to fall. He refused to acknowledge that a similar grey card was given to Professor Wu when Victoria left. No, Victoria couldn't have. Victoria couldn't have abandoned him.

The doors swung open upon his first push. Without heeding a look to notice all furniture and decorations remained the same, he immediately climbed the stairs with haste, all the while shouting for Victoria's name. Her room was left ajar, the windows wide opened. The evening's breeze brushed with great force toward him, violently jolting his senses. The room suddenly became eerily cold. But not taking a moment to adjust the abrupt change in temperature, Alexander headed toward her drawers. His breath was drawn the second his eyes registered one empty drawer after another. She left. His hands loosened, each object he held so endearingly fell to the ground. The velvet box that was let to tumble along the floor was stopped by the corner of Victoria's desk. He limped beside her bed, his eyes fixed on the letter that would never be read by its intended recipient:

"My love,

"Constantly in my heart a stirring of desire swirls, hidden even unbeknownst to me. Evolving, revolving, and all the while expanding, then contracting. I always knew that there was something more to life. Something that made more meaning. More substance. And while that has eluded me for some time, I finally found my answer.

"It was so simple, so obvious. Magically, you appeared in my life. There are many thoughts and closed doors that have begun to open, one by one. I do not know how to describe the depth of my feelings. Nor can I even begin to fathom that at the precipice of life, the apex of my existence, how wonderfully this feeling is. I see and feel all that surrounds me with a new appreciation.

"I do not believe that one can love at first sight. But at our first encounter, my undivided attention was yours. It was not so much that I fell in love with you, more so that I fell for you completely. Never once in my life did such emotions disturbed. I felt for even though I did not have a place in that emotion, I was well aware of its existence.

"Emptiness no longer pervades my days and nights. Only the melodic incantations of warmth that courses through me. With each breath I am rejuvenated. With each thought I am more attuned. Where once I only existed, now I live. Allow me to make share my life with my one and only true love. Let me walk the rest of this journey with you.

"Ever yours ever more,

"Alexander"

A hand reached out to collect the letter within his palm, along with the velvet box close by. That same hand extended forward, toward Alexander. Trembling fingers closed slowly on these objects and held - there was no other movement and no other glance.

After a pregnant pause, Professor Wu released his gaze on Alexander and spoke, "She left."

## 12 – To Where You Are

It had been one month since her departure. He remained calm, never raising his voice in anger or shouting out of annoyance. Instead, he kept to himself and spoke as little as possible, mainly only during his lectures. The moment he came home, he locked himself in his office, avoiding the curious glances from the maids and workers, avoiding the concerned look from Madame Lam's eyes. Dinner, too, was served in his office. And before any member of the household woke up, he would have already headed toward the University. This routine was kept perfect, until one day, Alexander Lam decided to move out.

It was a house just down the block, the one that was almost set ablaze, the one that sheltered his beloved. He settled into her bedroom and made use of the grand library at once. Perusing over the many classic novels Victoria treasured, he found himself more interested in the side annotations she wrote than the actual storyline. Her reflections, criticisms, and questions almost mirrored his. Fingering over her handwriting, he could almost hear her whisper, as she wrote, "We are given our existence, but life is our choice." Indeed, life is both a privilege and duty. We do not choose to exist, but once existed, we choose to live. We live, not only for ourselves, but also for those around us. And that is why Alexander Lam never gave up. That is why he knew she never gave up. Nonetheless, he still could not understand her need to go away, to escape from his reach.

Turning the page, he saw her dried ink, "Destinations are where we begin again; the death of night is but the birth of day." But if everything remained a cycle, why did he have the need to seek an escape from continuing revolving, evolving, and changing? He desired a constancy, a final destination. But his journey contained of roads leading off to more routes, of questions answered with more inquiries, of conclusions heading toward ambiguity. He spent days reading and absorbing her wisdoms, but Victoria Yeung still remained a mystery he wished to fathom, still the person he longed to see.

Six months had gone by. Young Professor Lam still immersed himself in his work. Whilst walking down the aisles amongst his students, lecturing on another topic of cognitive intelligence, a pale lady fought for each of her breath on the other side of the world. Her body curled inward, covering in cold sweats and habituated pain. She clutched tightly onto her jasmine pendant – her only link to reality, to know that she must struggle to hold on. Amidst her coughing, she managed to croak, "Emma, it... it hurts too much." Her other hand held onto her stomach, trying to massage the pain that refused to relent. She continued, "I want to let go."

"You mustn't. You must fight till the end, Miss!"

"But if the end will come no matter what, then why do I fight?" She asked after another bout of coughing. "For what am I fighting?"

"I don't know, Miss. But I can't bear losing you."

She averted the tearful gaze of her friend, "You must get used to the idea, Emma."

"No, don't speak like that."

Silence ensued.

"I am useless, Emma! I'm bedridden and half the time, I spent coughing up phlegm!"

"You have always said that you haven't had the chance to repay my kindness and loyalty. Miss, you owe it to me to continue this battle. You're bedridden only physically. But your ideas and thoughts are still genuinely yours. You owe it to me, to the very least, to write the last page of your story."

She glanced to the bed stand nearby, her attention focused on the brown, leather book. Her hand stretched out, smoothing its soft texture, "I can't much longer." Her breath uneven, she pleaded, "Forgive me."

* * * *

"Coming!" Jacob answered the knock as he ran toward the front gate, "Young master Lam! Do come! Elise has been waiting for you all afternoon."

Alexander nodded his head in greeting to Jacob and his wife Jane, "Please pardon my tardiness. As the semester is fast ending, many students are now seeking help."

Jacob laughed, "The young folks always wait till the last minute possible! Oh yes, you're here to see Elise! She's in her room."

Alexander nodded once more and headed left. Jacob reminded him as he entered Elise's room, "Dinner will be served in half an hour, young master!"

The door closed and he found himself trapped in a tiny space, with Elise crouched in front of her desk.

"Alexander!" She welcomed him with excitement, "I thought you've forgotten little me."

"Such faith you show in me, Elise!"

"It can't be helped! Who am I to demand anything from you?"

"Now stop fooling around. What book are you reading there?"

"Shakespeare's! Out of all great playwriters, they have to select him! He's boring, Alexander!" She exasperated. "Plain boring."

"Which play?"

"The Tempest. His last work, isn't it?"

He nodded mutely.

"His last work, and he didn't even bother to make it grand!"

"What would you do, Elise, if you were to live your last day on Earth?"

"Huh? I... Well, I wouldn't be writing a play! I guess I'll do whatever I like best with my loved ones. And I... I'll try to leave something of me behind."

"Then don't you think Shakespeare ended his career well?"

She giggled childishly, "Alexander, did Victoria like Shakespeare?"

He stared at her for a moment, then answered curtly, "His language, but not his plot."

She nodded and he continued questioning, "Have you completed the problem I've assigned yesterday?"

"Professor Lam, you never give your students a break, do you?" She sighed exaggeratedly.

"No, and definitely not the one I tutor."

"Why did Father ever agree to this? It's clear you want to make me a slave. My brain needs rest too, Professor!"

Despite her protests, teacher and student leaned over an Algebra text, which was covered with penciled calculations. Problems solved after problems, they finally moved onto her least favorite subject - History. In the middle of his monotonous explanation of the causes for World War II, she asked, "What do you miss most about Victoria?"

He turned stiff at her sudden question.

His ears constantly awaited her voice. His hands constantly felt her cold fingers intertwined with his. His eyes constantly longed for her loving gaze. His mind constantly replayed her rare laughter.

"Alexander."

He closed his eyes, but the eyelids failed to prevent his tears from falling.

"Alexander?"

No, he did not miss anything about Victoria for his heart was constantly stirred by her vision. His every thought and breath was focused on her being, and regretfully, her absence.

"Professor Lam!"

He turned to the voice that startled his thoughts, which continued, "Dinner is served."

* * * *

"How is Elise doing, Alexander?" Jacob asked as he led the young master down Ephemeral Street.

"Her studies have improved. Her manners... still childish."

Jacob let out a good laugh before responding, "I'm only thankful that she's still so carefree given her childhood."

Alexander stopped in the middle of his track; Jacob turned around to face him. "I've always wondered... have you ever blamed Victoria for keeping her silence, indirectly causing your years behind bars?" His question silently furthered, "And your handicap as a result?"

Jacob sighed, "I've never blamed anyone but my poor fate. What Victoria did was right, given her and my circumstances. I don't think she would have wanted your father to end up where I was. Of course, that is not to say arresting someone innocent is justified. But it wasn't by force, Alexander. Your father gave me a choice, and I chose jail, as oppose to seeing my mother die. She was very ill back then, and I cannot afford even one night's stay at the hospital. So he gave me money, and I traded my freedom with her life. I think I got myself a good bargain, don't you think? We were at first concerned that Victoria won't let us do this. But one day, I saw her standing by my mother's bed. And when she left, she had said, 'I'm sorry.' The very next day, she testified of not seeing the driver's face, and as I pleaded guilty, there was little to discuss in court."

They walked ahead.

"I was only mad at your father when I've found out of her illness. It was then that I realized no matter how many years I was put away from society, the truth was still the same - your father killed Victoria's only kin."

"Was it, Jacob, a pure accident?"

There was a twinkle in the elder gentleman's eyes, "You don't seem to trust your father much, Alexander. Now, was it an accident? The victims, yes. But the intention to kill was indeed there."

His eyes froze opened, "My... my father wanted to murder someone?"

"Before I say who, you should know that the Yeung's were best friends of Master Lam. When you were away studying in the city, Master always viewed Victoria as his own daughter. He admired her for her intelligence and compassion. Really, she was just like his own child. When their family moved to London, the entire company was left to the care of Master. Your father tried to convince them to stay, but they kept insisting it would be best for Victoria. He was puzzled with their persistence, but such bewilderment turned into fierce hatred when he found the true reason, as the Yeung's returned for their daughter's thirteenth birthday. He found they only moved away because Victoria was tainted by her own uncle. At that moment, he could only set his mind to avenge on Victoria's behalf. Only... that night, the traveler was not Victoria's uncle, the owner of that vehicle, but Master's best friends and daughter."

The gravels beneath his shoes suddenly became his enemy, and he grinded them with each heavy step.

"What happened to her uncle?"

"Committed suicide the following day."

They walked on in silence.

"Alexander."

Both heads turned to where Master Lam stood, beneath the lamppost which yellow lights gentled his aging.

"Greetings, Master Lam," Alexander winced at his own harsh tone.

"Good evening, Master Lam," Jacob spoke and the elder gentlemen exchanged nods. "Alexander, I should get back home now before Jane scolds me."

After acknowledging Jacob's leave, Alexander continued his even strides down the road.

"You have never been the one who runs away from his problems, my son," his father called from behind.

A couple feet away, Alexander stopped.

"Alexander, I would give anything to be sent to prison, to pay for my own guilt, to hopefully walk away one day with a clear conscience. But such action belonged to the irresponsible and selfish man. What would become of my wife and only son if I were to be placed behind bars? That is why, my son, I have had to live each day in pain and remorse, imprisoned not by the justice warranted by society, but by my own verdict, in order to ensure a bright future for my family."

Alexander turned around, his mind wanted to yell, "I would rather have lived through poverty!" But instead of the yellow lights shining above his father's face, the iridescent stars and glowing moon outlined his wrinkles, and his repentant, hollow eyes shone with wet tears. Alexander knew his father's words were sincere.

"If I had gone to jail, who would care for Victoria, even if it is just financially?"

"Why during all these years, you did not come see her?"

"How could I, Alexander? Am I not ashamed enough? Do I need her to remind me of my sin? How can I look into those eyes? And worse... what if she forgave me? I don't deserve that kindness. I couldn't face her."

He turned around once more and continued walking.

"Alexander, go find her."

He stopped again.

"We... we received a letter from Emma today, addressed to you."

Alexander instantly took the package from his father's hand. He hastily tore the envelope open and spread the letter before his eyes:

"Young master,

"Miss needs you. Please head at once to St. Anthony Hospital.

"Sincerely yours,

"Emma"

He immediately rushed toward his bedroom and packed only what was necessary, along with her diamond ring.

"I'm going to New York, Father."

## 13 – A Red Card

New York.

The suitcase clung loosely to his hand, ready to fall at any moment. His rapid footsteps quickened as he ran down the corridor, each resounding step edged with determination. Then everything came to a sudden halt.

"Miss! I need to know where Victoria Yeung is staying."

"One moment please."

"I don't have time to spare!"

She took a second to stare at him, "Room 416. That would be on..."

Before the receptionist could finish her sentence, Alexander hurried off to the fourth floor. He impatiently pressed the elevator's button. Again. And again. Seeing the door's unwillingness to open, he took the stairs instead. The first flight was filled with a need to quicken his pace. The second filled with enthusiasm. The third, a sense of apprehension emerged. And upon reaching the fourth floor, his eyes searched for her face. 400. His springing steps filled with the excitement of facing her once more. 408. His suitcase dropped. 416. A team of doctors and nurses hauled a bed out of her room. There was silence, save for the sobs of Emma. His feet remained rooted to the floor as the black wheels continued to turn, her bed furthering away from him. The distance kept lengthening, and it wasn't until her bed turned the corner did he take flight, following to the sounds of Emma's sorrow. He pushed through the nurses and paused as his trembling fingers reached the white sheet which covered her body. Slowly, her ashen face unveiled as he moved the fabric downward. It was only until then that his mind registered the first cry.

Pacing himself along with the nurses, he held her face and cold hands. His body leaned forward, he whispered loving words to her, half hoping her spirit would hear him, half denying she had given her last breath. Emma, a few steps behind him, had ceased crying. Her hands never left the leather book that comfortably cradled there. Her red, swollen eyes focused on his forlorn and helpless expression, on the teardrop that fell from his face onto Victoria's eyelids. He was crying on behalf of his beloved. And from now on, his thoughts would represent hers, his feelings from her heart, his actions held her motives. From now on, she could only exist through him.

"Victoria, it matters not that both time and distance will separate us. I love you, always."

They turned another corner, and a white, intimidating door stood waiting. The wheels continued rotating, but each subsequent step made by Alexander became more reluctant than the previous. He did not want to walk down that resonating hallway. He did not want to let go, did not want to send her into another world, where he could not belong. But time and movements did not stop. The world continued rotating around its motor. And the white sheet covered her eyes once again; her vision was lost. The doors opened.

"Good bye, my love."

Both doors to the morgue closed before them.

Emma, from behind, sprung forward. She held onto the doors that separated her from her friend. And slowly, her body slid downward, trembling in tears. Across the corridor, stood Alexander, hands in pocket, eyes closed, head tilted up. Motionless.

* * * *

Five hours passed. Two lonely figures remained sitting on the floor, traces of tears still evident on their faces.

"Emma, what were her last words?"

The faithful friend stared straight ahead, lacking the energy to part her lips. But moments after, she made an effort to respond, "She whispered your name and smiled."

He nodded and let silence embrace them, but Emma, with her newfound strength, continued, "Last night, she gave me this to give you."

Alexander held onto the leather book, which bore the title "Memoir of a Living Ghost". Flipping to the first page, he found a red card tucked inside. This time, it was not blank:

"My dearest love,

"I begin this letter, knowing that you are now holding back your tears. And I will not attempt to stop them from flowing. But love, know that this is not a farewell. It is a declaration of red - of passionate love and devotion.

"In my final months, I have gone to places where you have been, to relive your memories, to imagine within that brief, magical moment that I was with you all along, throughout your years abroad. We were holding hands, strolling down the beach. We were holding hands, biking amongst crumbled leaves. We were holding hands, and never apart. Emma has accompanied my ventures, through my times of need and joy. I ask that you can be there for her as well, to be the friend I failed to be.

"My love, I left because I thought I did not have courage enough to let you see my life slipping away. But you have never left me. Not your face. Not your voice. Not your touch. Our memories and love gave me the strength to fight my final days, to endure any pain inflicted upon me. And you were there, fighting and enduring with me. Guiding me all along.

"I love you, Alexander. And I thank you for letting me live through my colors. I thank you for having dried my unshed tears. I thank you for having understood and loved me.

"'Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage.' Alexander, I've found my strength and courage. I'm ready to walk life's end, with a smile. I have come to understand, dearest, that she is most happy when her memories live within the hearts of others even after her final departure. Alexander, I am that woman. I am content.

"Peacefully yours,

"Victoria"

* * * *

Her funeral was held on May 14th of 1957. Few clouds gathered, but the sky remained overall clear and sunny. Contrasting its mood were the cheerless faces of her four beloved. Amidst the green grass, they stood cloaked in black. Neither eulogies nor prayers were spoken, but their silence mourned in louder remorse, stronger pain, and deeper sincerity. They stood there. Still.

And at last, one man's movement allowed a fourth white rose to join her final farewell, "Tori, my daughter, forgive me for having found the courage to face you only after your last breath. Forgive me for having caused your miserable waking hours. Do forgive me. It is what I most desire, but know I least deserve... Please forgive me."

He removed himself from his crouching position and looked toward the sky. His eyes brimmed with tears, "And I thank you for having given me my happiness even when I robbed you of yours. It is a father's greatest joy to see his son content. And only you, Tori, could make him smile truly. Only you could dictate his future dreams and direction. Thank you, Tori."

He turned around to join the walking shadow of Professor Wu. They now wander on similar grounds - of a father whose daughter is lost and a mentor whose student is absent. Their footsteps followed the same rhythm as the cemetery came out of view, burying with it a beautiful soul. Burying with it a life that inspired. Casting a last glance toward the open field that now became her home, Professor Wu whispered, "An ending to something beautiful deserves not tears. Tori, I hope you are now part of a world that better deserves your presence."

The two remaining beloved stood still. One hour. Two hours. Three. Four. Emma turned to Alexander, her hand touching his shoulder. He faced her, and they embraced in silent understanding. Then, she left, to let him be alone. Her footsteps were filled with longing, with grief, and a sense of lost. She found herself trapped in a predicament as once did nine years back. But this time, there would be no bright light shining her path; there would be no birthday to celebrate. Her hand reached for the butterfly hairpin, reminiscing the friendship and warmth Victoria once offered. But these memories could not bring back her friend, could not restore what was lost. Slowly, her hand removed the broken emerald pin; its butterfly only had one stiff wing, unable to roam the sky without guidance, without its other half.

The weather changed. Drizzling. Drops fell onto the grass, glossing their green coats. Drops fell onto his face, replacing his tears. Drops fell into his heart, and he could no longer bear the pain. Alexander's knees thudded to the ground. He, too, fell. Crawling near her tombstone, he reached out to its inscriptions. The image, carved ever delicately, was a replicate from her memoir. It was the family portrait he promised to paint for her, of a happy couple smiling down upon their grinning infant. He touched her face and closed his eyes, his ears listening intently to the sounds surrounding him. The wind caressed him, as if whispering, "I love you." And he smiled. Hands reaching his pocket, he took out a diamond ring, and placed it endearingly at the foot of her tombstone, beneath these engravings: "Victoria Yeung Lam; beloved wife of Alexander Lam."

"Death cannot kill what never dies. My love is yours, Mrs. Lam, for always."

## About the Author:

TkN is currently pursuing her PhD in Developmental Psychology with a focus in Cognitive & Affective Neuroscience. When not reading articles, conducting research, or lecturing, she enjoys watching movies, writing fictions, and especially reading novels. You can find TkN at her personal site: TkN Portrait

TkN is currently working on her next book titled _The Primrose Path:_

A brief exploration of the sinful act of an extramarital affair. Morals will be questioned. Repercussions will be faced. A marriage of seven years falls apart as Dr. Nathaniel Faraday unwittingly falls in love with his witty and skillful resident, Dr. Eliza Robbins. Matters of the heart and the mind will battle, leaving neither unscathed. The primrose path of dalliance bespeaks... calamity.
