BRAIDED BROOD

Chapter 5

Back in her room, the weight of the day finally caught up with Emily. She pulled out a small jewelry box her parents had given her as a child and opened it, taking out her mother's photo. Tears streamed down her face. "Mom," she whispered.

She opened her phone to the string of texts she'd sent her father; none of them were answered.

‘Dad, are you busy?’

‘It’s been six months since I’ve seen you; when are you coming home?’

‘Tomorrow’s the anniversary of Mom’s death. Can you make it?’

With a heavy sigh, she set the box down, plugged in her phone, and crawled under her duvet to sleep.

Early the next morning, Emily caught a public bus to the mausoleum, clutching a small bouquet. At the same time, Jeffery was pulling up to the location on his motorbike.

Emily went straight to the shelf where her mother's urn had always been kept, but when she arrived, the glass shelf was completely empty. Panicked, she flagged down the attendant who was there.

“Excuse me. Where’s the urn that used to be here?” She said, pointing at the empty shelf.

The man sighed, following her gaze. “Ahhh… this one? Did you not know? The payment on this space is five years overdue now, and we couldn’t get in touch with the designated guardian.”

“So, are you saying that you threw it away?” Emily asked, her voice cracking with disbelief.

“Of course not. We didn’t throw it away; we kept it in our storage.”

“How could you just shove her in storage because of overdue payments?" Emily's voice rose, thick with indignation. "Do people need to be evicted, even in death, due to rent being overdue?”

The attendant responded softly, trying to maintain a professional distance. “We have our internal rules as well.”

“How much money do we owe you?” She demanded.

“Three thousand dollars.”

Emily gasped, the number landing like a physical blow. “WHAT??? Three thousand dollars?”

“Get out of the way. Can you keep things quiet around here?” a cold voice interrupted. Jeffery stepped between them, cutting off the escalating argument. “Let’s continue this outside.” The attendant said something low to Emily, then led her out.

Before heading back out, Jeffery had stopped for a moment at his own mother's photo. Then, he saw Emily kneeling on the concrete before the caretaker, pleading desperately for him to bring her mother back out of storage.

As she begged, a memory surfaced without warning: that same girl standing ramrod straight in the convenience store, jabbing a finger at him, “Sir! You have to pay for the food. You can’t even say you’re sorry?” The stark contrast between that proud, fierce girl and the broken woman kneeling on the ground left something bitter in his chest.

That night, Emily stood out in the rain, soaked through and hollowed out. She stared at the crumpled flowers still in her hand, the heavy rain blurring her vision as memories of her mother came flooding back. After a long, silent thought, she began to whisper into the dark, as if her mother were standing right there beside her.

“Mom, I do have the money... but your wish was for me to go to college, right? That was your wish, so I’m going to go to college. I can go to college, right? I’m your daughter whom you’re proud of….”

She clutched her mother’s pendant tightly, tears streaming down her face.

But the weight of reality crushed the fragile hope as fast as she'd built it. “No. I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry. I don’t think I can go to college. Forget everything I just said. I’m sorry, Mom. I only said that because... because I’m going through such a hard time. Things are just so hard for me right now.” She broke down completely into the empty night.

Meanwhile, Jeffery didn’t go straight home but found himself at Jasmine’s workspace instead. Breaking the silence, Jasmine surprised him by presenting her finished masterpiece. “Ta-da! What do you think? I made this specifically to wear to the wedding.”

“What wedding?” He asked with a smirk.

“Your Grandpa’s wedding. You’re going, right?

“I'm not going.”

Jasmine lowered the fabric, searching his face. “Are you really not going?”

“Nobody wants me there anyway,” he replied flatly.

Setting the dress aside, she stepped closer to him. “Huxley is apparently bringing a girl.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Can't you just come with me?” she pleaded.

“I’d usually do you any favor but…”

“All right. Sorry for asking.” She cut in.

Jeffery sighed. “You already knew the answer. Why ask anyway? Now I feel so bad.”

Across town, Emily sat counting her meager savings. “All right... all I need is another seven hundred dollars.”

Huxley's limousine pulled up in front of Emily after he received a call earlier. He stepped out to greet her. “Is your offer from before still valid?"

Emily didn't hesitate. “Fine. But in exchange, I need the cash up front. And I can't give you a tax receipt.”

Huxley folded his arms and let out an amused sigh. “You're really something else. This isn’t what I'm expecting you to say. Fine, it's a deal. But let me get something straight, too.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, curious.

“Act like my fiancée for three hours.”

Emily’s eyes widened. “What? Your fiancée?”

“Why? You don’t want to? You’re never going to get another chance to earn so much money in three hours,” he teased.

“Why do you need a fiancée for three hours?”

“Because of my grandpa." He lied, putting on a tragic face. "He’s quite ill and really wants to see me settled down before he dies. One of my relatives is getting married today, and today is the last day my grandpa gets to leave the hospital.” He turned his back to hide his laughter, pretending to sob instead.

Emily, entirely fooled, patted his shoulder in sympathy. “Okay, fine. I don’t want to get tangled up in your life, but I will agree to this for tonight. In exchange, if you try to pull anything stupid, I won't hesitate to make you regret it. Understood?”

He nodded happily. “All right, since we are engaged, we should introduce ourselves. I’m Kyle Huxley. And you are?”

“Chris Emily.” They shook hands and got in the car.

As the car glided down the street, Emily kept her eyes glued to the window, trying to ignore his proximity. Huxley leaned in slightly, breaking the silence. “Gosh! You are peculiar. How could you look elsewhere when you are sitting right next to someone like me?”

“What’s wrong with you?" Emily snapped, shifting away. "Don’t act like we are close.”

“Hey, we’re engaged for the night, remember? So we should try to act that part.” She sighed, adjusted her seat, and said nothing. “Forget this act of yours," he went on. "You’ll be my fiancée for three hours tonight. A chance like this won’t come around again, so let’s just have some fun.”

Emily whipped around and thrust a hand up to his face, silently warning him to keep his distance. “All of this will be over at midnight on the dot.”