Episode 2
1138 Words
AVA’S POV
“We are gathered here today to lay our beloved to rest. May the soul of the departed find peace in the bosom of the Lord,” the pastor says, deep and solemn.
Mourners bow their heads. “Amen.”
“We may never understand why, but we trust that God knows best. Sleep well, until we meet again.” Nicholas' voice trembles.
“Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. May the Lord receive this soul with mercy and grant eternal rest,” the pastor continues.
Again we bowed our heads, “Amen.”
The service of songs was over, and the cemetery was quiet, except for the sobs from the mourners.
I stood a bit far from the casket, crossing my arms over my chest, and trying to ignore the lump in my throat as they lowered her into the ground.
Mrs. Williams had been kind to me, and that kindness stayed with me. She wasn't intimidating like I’d feared when we first met, but was nice in asking about my mother’s health.
She always offered tea during our meetings and touched my arm lightly when she saw fear in me. We weren’t friends—how could we, when I wasn't in her class? But she made me feel less like a vessel for her babies.
And now she is gone. I watched the casket lower, her laughter echoed in my head as I fought to breathe.
She was excited when she first felt the triplets kick and cried during our last phone call before the accident, before she was taken from her newborn babies, whom she loved so much.
I remembered how she drove me home, after visiting the hospital, and even set up the nursery.
They said it was an accident, a truck swerved into the wrong lane and everything ended instantly.
But I couldn’t believe it.
Tell me how one day, she was decorating a room for her babies; the next, she was gone.
I couldn’t watch them cover her with soil, or stand the sound of it, so I turned away.
Back at the house, which was big and cold, I walked to the room that had been mine, the one I was allowed to sleep in.
With Vivian gone, I wondered if it’s right to leave immediately. Anyways my part is done, I thought to myself.
I hadn’t even held the triplets yet, I only knew they were barely a week old.
I was still sore from childbirth, my head clouded by everything that happened next; all the lawyers, press releases, and the funeral arrangements.
And him, Mr. Williams, silent and ruthless, moved through his wife’s death coldly like he wasn’t human.
I didn’t trust him, I never had, not fully.
He was charming when his wife was around, but there was always something I noticed about him.
Mr Williams is calculative, observant and cold.
And that she was gone, that calculation had grown teeth and was ready to attack, suddenly I was startled when the door opened behind me.
But I didn’t turn because I knew it was him by the way the maids walked quickly.
His presence alone was the type that tightened my skin, even when he said nothing.
“So this is where you’re hiding,” he said, his voice low, even.
“I wasn’t hiding.” I kept my eyes on the window to avoid staring at him. “Just thinking about some things.”
He didn’t respond at first, but then I heard the door closing and the soft footsteps as he approached.
“I suppose you’ve been thinking a lot,” he said. “Wondering whether to stay or run.”
That made me turn slowly to him.
He was standing in the center of the room, dressed in black, but not mourning.
There was no grief in his face, only a cold stillness, like he’d already processed the loss and moved past it.
“Am I wrong?” he asked.
I clenched my hands in response. “I... don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”
He moved closer, and I gently stepped back. Just a small motion, but enough that he noticed, and that made his jaw tick.
“You were talking to her,” he said flatly. “When she crashed.”
My breath caught. “That wasn’t…Mr. Williams, I didn’t know that…”
“She was calling you,” he said, voice was too calm. “Talking to you when she should’ve had both hands on the wheel. But of course, you couldn’t wait, no, you had to tell her about every little ache as if the pregnancy made you part of the family.”
“I didn’t ask for any of that,” I said, my voice shaking. “You hired me, both of you did, and she was the one who called me, so I didn’t make her drive and talk…”
“She’s dead.” He said it with a finality that sucked the air out of the room and out of my lungs.
And then he stepped forward, closing the distance between us.
“You don’t get to run,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
“You think you can just disappear and leave them behind? My children?”
“They are her children too,” I snapped, instantly regretting the heat in my voice because his eyes flared in reply.
“Yes,” he said tightly. “Now that she’s gone, I will raise them, but they need someone to care for them, feed them, wake up with them, and bond with them.”
He stared at me. “You carried them, you’re staying to raise them.” I took another step back. “That’s not what we agreed to, the contract was clear…”
“There is no contract anymore,” he said coldly. “Not one that matters between us at least.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off sharply. “You live here now, until I say otherwise. This is no longer a discussion, and you don’t get to choose.”
My throat tightened.
He didn’t yell because he didn’t need to; the weight of his words was enough. I felt them like bondage, invisible yet unbreakable, wrapped around my body.
I looked away, blinked hard. “I want to see them,” I whispered, not sure why I said it.
Maybe to remind myself why I hadn’t run, or to remind him I wouldn’t be pushed around so easily.
He paused for a long time, turned and left, closing the door quietly, even though he didn't bother responding.
And I stood alone, my heart racing, while silence rushed around me again. But it wasn’t comforting anymore.
No, it felt like a warning.
- Writer
