Mr. President's Lost Wife

10. Still Alive

“Did you guys come here on holiday?” Edmund tried to break the tension on his head.

While rubbing her hands with antiseptic, the little girl shook her head.

“Papa came here to work. He is a wildlife photographer and journalist. There are many endemic and rare animals here. Papa came to study them.”

"Then your mother?"

“Mama works as Papa's assistant. That's why I came here too. They couldn't possibly leave me at home. Moreover, they often move from country to country and stay for quite a long time. We've been here three months. Can you imagine how sad I would be if I failed to see Chamarel Falls?”

Edmund's head spontaneously moved forward. "Where is your house?"

“We live in the Kalimantan forest, in a wildlife conservation area. Papa and Mama help the owner of the foundation between work."

Edmund's eyes widened. “Kalimantan? Indonesia?"

The little girl grabbed a hotdog while nodding. “Yes, we are foreigners. Our hair, skin, and eye colors are different from others. But I like the atmosphere there. Feels calm and peaceful. The local residents are kind and friendly, but we have to travel long distances to meet them.”

“How long have you guys lived there?”

The toddler devoured the hotdog while thinking. "I don't know. Maybe since I was a baby? I ever saw a photo of myself in the forest. It was similar to the environment around my house.”

"How old are you?"

The little girl straightened the fingers of her left hand and folded her thumb. Her mouth was busy chewing.

“And your name?"

Instead of answering, the toddler reached for her book and pen again. The hotdog had been moved to the left hand.

"Before I tell you my name, you have to tell me yours."

Edmund's eyebrows knitted together. "You want to write my name? You said you couldn't read."

“Not writing, but drawing. I can think of something similar to your name. It can be used as a clue if one day I forget your name."

Edmund snorted in disbelief. "You're so ridiculous."

"Not really. I'm used to it and am good at it. Say your name, Mister Beard. I'll prove that I can draw it."

Intrigued, Edmund followed the game. “Ed. How do you draw it in your journal?”

The little girl frowned. “Is your name just Ed? It's very short.”

“That's my name. Come on, draw it," Edmund was secretly amused. For some reason, he felt relaxed even though he actually couldn't wait to get more in-depth information.

"No, you must be lying. There must be something else after Ed. I think you're deliberately making my job difficult. Is your name Edi?"

Edmund shook his head.

"Edo?"

He repeated his head movements.

“Eda?”

Edmund's eyes narrowed. “You think this is a quiz?”

“Edu? Edrick? Edward?” she guessed, getting more and more excited.

“Edmund. Edmund Hills. That's my name, so stop making it up."

The little girl giggled triumphantly. After taking another bite of the hotdog, she started drawing. The more scratches she made, the more wrinkles appeared on Ed's face.

“What are you drawing?”

The toddler pointed at three ovals with the tip of her pencil. “These are almonds.”

Then, she moved on to the two curved lines on the side. "These are hills."

"I said my name is Edmund Hills."

“Yeah, here's the clue to your name. Edmund sounds similar to almond, while hills means Hills. So ... this is Edmund Hills.”

Edmund unconsciously put on a sour face. "You compare me to an almond?"

“It only sounds similar, Sir. You guys are clearly different. You are nice, while almonds are evil. I like you, but don't like almonds.”

Edmund almost flinched. A strange vibration had crept into his heart again.

“Why don't you like almonds?”

“Because I can't eat it. It could make me short of breath and rushed to the hospital. I don't want any more injections."

Edmund blinked for a moment. “Are you allergic to almonds?”

While the little girl nodded, he let out a sigh of disbelief. “I'm allergic to almonds too.”

"Is it true? What a coincidence. Let's high five!"

Edmund didn't move when the toddler in front of him raised her hand. Only after blinking did he grab those tiny fingers and held them expectantly.

“Matchstick, who are you actually? Why do you keep reminding me of Alice?”

“Alice? Who's that? Is she your daughter?”

"Answer me. What's your name?"

The little girl raised the hotdog as high as possible. Her head looked up for a moment. “That's my name.”

Edmund gasped. Lightning seemed to strike right at his chest. “Sky? Your name is Sky?”

The little girl smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah, isn't my name pretty? I love my name. It's also easy to draw. Just a few clouds and the sun, or the moon and the stars.”

Edmund's throat suddenly felt dry, burned by longing from his lungs. When he couldn't hold it in any longer, he got up from the chair and pulled Sky into a hug.

"Sky, My Daughter, do you know how many prayers I said to be able to meet you?"

Tears slowly dripped down his cheeks before soaking into the toddler's red hoodie. Sky could only blink in confusion. Too many questions hung in her mind.

Why didn't Edmund call her Matchstick anymore? Why did he call her his daughter? Why did he suddenly hug her?

And the question that left her most speechless was ... why did she feel comfortable in Edmund's arms? His warmth made her peaceful and serene. There was a slight feeling of sadness in her heart too, but it made her relieved. Sky had never felt anything like that, even with her own father.

“I know I have made a big mistake. But please, don't hate me. Forgive your father, Sky. I promise I will make amends for all my mistakes. The important thing is we can get back together. I will bring you and your mother home, Sky. We're going home. Our home."

Edmund stroked Sky's cheek and kissed her forehead. Sky could now see his tears clearly. Her eyebrows could not help but furrow in pity.

“Mister Edmund, why are you crying? Are you sad because I remind you of your daughter?”

Before Edmund had time to answer, a call caught their attention. “Sky!”

Sky and Edmund spontaneously looked around. Seeing a woman in a plaid shirt and jeans, Sky gasped.

"Mama?"

Meanwhile, Edmund stood with his mouth agape. His eyes didn't blink at all at the figure in front of him. The longing that had been suppressed for 1,825 days finally overflowed. Regret and guilt spilled over along with tears.

“Alice? Is that really you? You're still alive?”