~ c h a n c e ' s ~

Nine months earlier . . .

It was chaos.

The chaos was unbearable.

I had no clear understanding of what this chaos meant. In the corner of this room, the scenery of silence had broken moments ago. Beyond those cold words spatting to each other, I felt the sense of familiarity between. The families of Twain and Mayrand that were associated in the past, was now giving each other a dissatisfied look as they pressed one's guilt to unfold the past.

"You have a heavy criminal offense on your shoulders, Trevor." Mister Twain gravely said with a pair of eyes that flared with abhorrence.

"Did you seriously think that I would be scared of that, Niel?" The head of the Mayrand replied scornfully.

They were gathered here—in a private room of the hospital that the Mayrand owned as Nathan spilled the truths to his family about their lost daughter. It had been forty-eight hours, and she remained sleeping.

Everyone had a thick, melancholic grim in each face. The current president of the Agency (Mikhail Zeke), Nathan, and the Quinn of the Twain were all present. As for the Mayrand's side, Trevor was with his wife Trevanna, and the son whom they called Credell Haelan.

And I, on the other hand, was the only stray.

"Yet what you've done is wrong!" Mister Twain said through gritted teeth, evidencing a gruesome voice. "You know who she is! Where she belongs!"

"Where she belongs, you say?" scoffs by the doctor, slowly rendering a rage emotion in him. "Do you mean you intend to keep her rotting in your hands?!"

"I did that to protect her!"

"Your definition of protection is all for naught!" The head of the Twain family became reticent. "Protecting her by letting her hone a knife in such a young age? Have you ever considered that?" the Mayrand head persisted. "You manipulated her and the only regret I have was following your orders and I had to erase the memories. I should have taken her since then . . . And maybe, I could . . . I could also save Dennis from all of this."

The expression of his remorse was like roaring tides of words echoed in every angle of this room. Tremendous guilt also washed the Twain family, stealthily hiding the tears behind the catatonic face.

"I will never feel sorry for taking her away from all of you," Trevor Mayrand spoke with a firm, silent voice. "You should've seen her . . . when Credell took her to our home, on how furtive was the expression etched on her. Even I couldn't decipher whether if she had a good life or a bad one. And that was the time I swore that I would make her live, so that in the future, she could say that it is wonderful to be alive."

Everyone here undeniably suffered the tragic loss of someone who was very important. I served the Twain family, and I refused to take a stand on their side. Spiteful it might be, but I would support the Mayrand's appeal.

"We're leaving," declared the doctor whilst rising from his seat. His wife and son did the same. Seemed like the Twain had no hesitation if they leave. They all took a few steps and stopped, gazing back again to the devastated-looking Niel Twain. "I'll take care of her until she woke up, and then we'll leave this country again, away from all of you."

"You can't do that, Trevor! She's still our daughter!" Quinn Twain interjected, blinding tears were on her eyes as she asserted her awful plea.

"The daughter you knew have died five years ago." Trevor said as stoic as he could, "She died carrying the Twain. The only thing she has to do is to live, having the Mayrand on her name."

Having a solemn voice, they left . . . Expect from the son. He stayed as if he was prepared to divulge the thoughts he was keeping inside.

"Forgive me!" He had an act of radiating courage as he begged a pardon to the clan of the Twain. "If only . . . If only I could have just turned back the time, I would have just returned her to you. Yet I never knew that she's a part of your family . . . My ignorance has brought your family trouble."

"Don't lump that shit on me!" Nathan petulantly said with a scowl. He was about to assault the Young Mayrand, but Mike Twain prevented him. "Her death was publicized around the world! There's no way you can't be informed!"

"It is the truth. My father might play some tricks to cover her identity to me. All I did is to watch the improvement of her health." Credell Haelan ruefully attempted to object Nathan's exclamation. "Changed it in the fourth year when she was on our hands—it was the time when I discovered who she really is. Yet I'm a coward!" He shrilled, without arranging his thoughts. "I saw how she living her life so brightly and have an objective grasp of human passion. She was a very fragile, yet a gentle person, fearing that if I returned her to you, she might go back to what she was."

I was reminded of what she said before.

"All my life, I was desperate to know who I am . . . But learning that my past is related to this bloodshed . . . I don't want it; I can't stand it."

And if ever I would be on his position, I might do the same. But I was one of the reasons why the miracle bled to death.

From what I could see, Quinn Twain rose up from she was sitting. She started walking towards the Young Mayrand. Her expression had no intention to harm him. She was a very kind person—lovingly in nature.

Quinn Twain reached for the Mayrand's hand, "Thank you for saving her . . . We're deeply indebted to you and your family." She had always been a light-hearted person. I could honestly say that every time I was with her, it felt like I had a second mother. "But I would like to remind you that this doesn't mean I expressed my gratitude, we wouldn't fight for our rights."

"I understand, Mistress Twain." Credell Mayrand empathized. "I would like to give you my support, but I can't double-cross my family."

"It's all right, Young Man, we understand." she nodded in redundancy and smiled at him. "Thank you, you're too kind."

He only humbled down himself and bid everyone goodbye. He was about to make passed of me.

To my observation, he was a lanky man. Bit aloof, no distinguished disguise of conceit or arrogance. His vulnerability was obvious, yet he was the son of a powerful man, he was deluged with scientific and medicinal capabilities.

Once he got out of this room, there was a persistent curiosity in me. I had a number of queries that longed to be answered.

I left the Twain family and headed outside. I looked to my left and right, trying to navigate which way did he take. I only noticed him walking in my 12 o'clock.

Quickly, I followed him. I made sure that he was on my sight. There are few people around the area.

I was about to call him when he entered a lift.

I ran where the lift was and checked the elevator control panel. The lift was going up, showing the floor where the roof deck was located. I did the same, entering the other lift. Pressing the roof deck button.

Once reaching the designated floor, thank goodness there were no other people besides us. I saw him walking towards the benches placed, his back was facing me.

"Credell Mayrand," I spoke his name.

He quivered, seemed surprised with my abrupt call. "Y-Yes?" he replied as he looked back at me. "Oh, you're the person a while ago."

"Chance Cain," I introduced myself with a slight austere demeanor.

"Nice to meet you . . . I guess," he responded simply with an uneasy smile. "You want something from me?"

"Right, can I have a word with you? There are things I want to know." I prompted.

"I see," he gave off a closed-eye grin. "I'll try my best to answer your confusions."

He must have known why. He humored my request and both sat together on a bench.

This hospital was top-notch. In this roof deck, there was a healing garden. There were planting strips, where different kinds of flowers, greeneries, and small trees were planted.

The wind was strong, it circled around and enveloped us. It rose up and lowered down as it created rhythmic whistles that could calm the bleak ambiance.

"Then? What do you want to ask first?" he started.

I inhaled, "Why did you return in this country? Knowing that Miracle's family lives in here?" and exhale the first question.

"It will be Dennis' Death Anniversary two days from now."

I clipped a nod, remembering the past—the time when Dennis was still alive, devoting his life to her.

"I'm sorry." I expressed sympathy. "Dennis was actually my classmate way back in high school."

I saw his visage turned bright, hearing the words I said. "Really? Were you a friend of him?"

I let out silent jeer as I grinned weakly. "We didn't speak much before, yet I considered him as a rival."

"Oh? A rival? Why?"

I studied his face. He might be a stern-faced person, but he had a lively attitude. I was reminded of Dennis on how much they were alike.

"You could say that we loved the same person."

"Whoah. Is it Miracle?"

"Yeah," I replied flatly.

"I bet, you were the one who got the girl."

"Yes, you're right."

His eyes glinted with a brighter enthusiasm upon hearing that, yet the gentle depiction he drew on his face remained. "Miracle, huh? I wonder why Den never told me about her."

"Although you and Dennis were siblings, seems like there's still a huge difference between you two," I told him.

He grinned with all honesty, "Actually, Dennis and I were just half-siblings."

A faint wry breath escaped my mouth. "How did that happen?"

"Well, to make the story short, my biological mother died." he started explaining, "I was left to my father's care, that's why I've taken up medicine course. Sooner, my dad met Dennis' mother."

I was just studying his face, finding some hints if he was saying lies or not. But I never detected any deceit to his words. I only decided to listen to him with humble submission.

"There are things in common that Dennis and I had." he said shortly after a pause, "First, his family was also lined in medicine. The second was one of our parents had died. In his case, his father was a goner. Thus, intertwining our fates was kinda possible. Lastly, we were both interested in medicine. But Dennis, although he was still young, had a huge potential in pharmaceutical. He could make drugs—whether illicit or medicinal."

"Then," this time I spoke, "this answers the drug issues of your family?"

"Yes," he wearied. "It was my stepmother's illegal business. Yet my father . . . He didn't care at all. He married her, despite the anomalies. And if there something I'm thankful for, I'm glad that Dennis became my little brother. We may take a different path, yet that human compassion he had, was something I learned from him."

Haunted by the sense of loneliness in him, he stood up from his seat and hid his hands inside his pockets. The wind blew through, weighing down the cold current of the past.

"What about Miracle?" I inquired, "That human compassion he had has taken his life."

"Haha," he breathed out a silken cackle, "What I only understand is . . . If loving someone means shouldering someone's burden, then Dennis had done that. But it doesn't mean he carried her burden, he could take her all the way up to her fated destination. In the end, the rest will be in the miracle's hands." then he moved his head to the right where he could see me. He got a crescent smile on his lips and said, "Besides, I know for sure that Dennis would not save someone who's not worthy."

What he said blown me. The melancholic air scattered as the shadows pulled me down. The guilt burned my throat and I was unable to speak. The words that came of out his mouth reminded me of the incessant penitence, peering at the depth of my sorrowful faults I had done to her.

Saving her;

Carrying her burdens;

And most of all, I wouldn't able to die for her.

The only thing I gained from those regrets was a heart full of numbing griefs. But the fact I had these griefs only led me here—to what I am right now.

Credell Mayrand started to walk, making his mind up to leave me here. "I guess you lost to Dennis, Chance Cain." he got a sneer on his voice, chuckling in a process. "It's so nice talking to you, by the way."

And just like that, he left me here in this place—mind wandering with the thoughts of before. Really, it was my loss. It continued to frustrate me that these feelings of mine will never be gone.

Hoping in one day, I would be able to stand beside her with a confident stance. Somewhere in a moment, I would be waiting for that miracle whose wanting to soar high with crippled wings.

↭ ♡ ↭

My words may be lame, but it's an honest work. I have no regrets lol.

by the way, if you wanna know what healing garden in a roof deck looks like. <3

✨handtheirend