Chapter Two: The Day the Light Went Out
848 Words
The next afternoon started like any other.
Sandra sat behind her desk, typing half-heartedly while her mind wandered to the night before—her dad laughing in her kitchen, teasing her about how she still couldn’t cook rice without burning it. She could still hear his voice, see the softness in his eyes whenever he looked at her. He had become her place of safety… her calm in a world that hadn’t stopped shaking.
At exactly one o’clock, her office door opened again.
“Knock knock,” her father said, grinning like he had all the time in the world.
Sandra looked up, startled—and then confused. He was too cheerful. Too warm. Too… him. She knew he was happy she was doing better, but something in him felt almost extra light that day. Like he had decided to shoulder all the heaviness for her.
“Dad? Everything okay?” she asked, tilting her head.
He stepped inside, hands shoved in his pockets the way he always did when he was hiding something or being sentimental.
“Thought I’d come invite my whole family to dinner tonight,” he said proudly. “You, the kids, your ex—everyone. Just like the old days.”
Sandra blinked at him. “Dad… you know we’re not together anymore. Why would you—?”
He cut her off gently. “Family is family, my girl. Doesn’t matter how it looks. I want everyone around my table tonight.”
It was strange. Unsettling even. But his smile—God, it was the kind that wrapped her heart like a blanket.
“Okay,” she said softly. “We’ll be there.”
He leaned in, kissed her forehead, then whispered, “I’ll fetch the kids after school. I love you, my baby.”
Before she could respond, he pulled her into a hug. A long, warm, almost lingering hug. When he let go, something inside her stirred… a flicker of unease. She watched him walk out the door, his shoulders relaxed, his step slow and thoughtful.
She didn’t know that would be the last moment she ever had with him.
---
The hours crawled by.
By three o’clock, the air in her office felt heavy—like the sky outside was holding its breath. Sandra tried to shake it off, but something deep inside her chest tightened.
Then her phone buzzed.
It was her brother-in-law.
Weird, she thought. He never messages around this time.
Before she could answer, her office door opened and he walked in—pale, shaking, eyes wild with panic.
“Hey… what’s wrong?” Sandra asked, standing up.
He didn’t speak.
He couldn’t.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper. His hand trembled as he held it out to her.
Sandra frowned but took it.
She unfolded it.
Stared.
The words didn’t make sense at first. They blurred together.
“Your dad… accident… they’re trying to resuscitate him…”
Her chest caved in.
“No,” she whispered. “No, no, no—this isn’t funny. Why would you write—?”
The room tilted. Her vision went white around the edges.
Suddenly she was moving—running, shaking, grabbing her phone with numb fingers. She called her ex-husband, voice breaking as she tried to say the words out loud.
“He’s been in a crash—please come, please hurry, I don’t know what’s—”
He didn’t hesitate. He came immediately, pulling up outside the office within minutes. She climbed into the car on shaking legs, tears already streaming down her face.
“Where are the kids?” she gasped.
“With your aunt and your mom,” he said gently. “They're safe. Just breathe.”
Safe.
Her father had made sure of that.
Of course he had.
---
When they reached the scene, Sandra didn’t wait for the car to stop. She threw open the door and stumbled onto the road, heart thrashing violently in her chest.
Then she saw it.
The wreck.
Her father’s vehicle crushed, twisted—broken beyond recognition. The flashing lights, the paramedics, the stillness around them… all of it told her the truth her mind refused to accept.
She didn’t need anyone to say a word.
She felt it in her soul.
He was gone.
Her legs gave out and she dropped to the ground, the scream tearing from her throat raw and primal. The world around her blurred into sirens and voices and chaos, but inside her chest was only silence—cold, hollow silence.
Everything she had rebuilt.
Everything she had fought for.
Everything her father had held together with love and willpower—
Shattered.
Just like the metal on the road.
Just like her heart.
Sandra pressed trembling fingers to her lips, whispering, “Daddy… please… don’t leave me. Not now. I can’t— I can’t do this without you.”
But there was no answer.
Only the wind.
And a grief so deep it felt like drowning.
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