Chapter Two: The Farthest Reaches of Memory
"Excuse me?"
Eunice glanced up from her paperwork with a start, her gaze colliding with that of an annoyed woman. "Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you. Yes, miss?"
The woman on the other side of the glass sighed. "It's been fifteen minutes now. How late is the doctor running?"
You don't mind it so much if it's you she's spending extra time on, Eunice thought to herself venomously, but plastered on a professional smile and assured her, "Oh, it should be any minute now, miss. She was only ten minutes late before."
Right on cue, Dr. Lodain's assistant, Robert, came out and beckoned the impatient woman in. Eunice couldn't possibly suppress a sigh of relief when she was gone-- she was, after all, the last patient of the day.
Hearing this, Robert smiled at her. "It's been a long day, hasn't it? Go on, get going, you've more than done your job."
Eunice stared up at him, startled. "But I've still got paperwork-- and the reception room needs to be straightened up…"
"Do the paperwork tomorrow morning," Robert advised, "and by the time Loretta comes out, the room will be spotless, I promise." He nodded emphatically.
"Oh, Robert, that's kind of you, but--"
"No, I mean it," he insisted, cutting her off with a shake of his head. "Go home, Eunice. You look exhausted, and that's a professional opinion right there."
Sighing, she ducked her head and reached for her purse. "I-- guess you're right. Thank you so much, Robert."
"Not at all," he grinned as she pushed the door open and gave him a parting smile. "Not at all."
-
Robert had been right about how tired she was-- she certainly didn't feel like buying, much less cooking something elaborate. A quick stop at the bakery gave her two small loaves for dinner and breakfast, and there were still things in her fridge to improvise with.
Entering her apartment, she threw her purse onto the coffee table and plopped the bag of bread on the kitchen counter. She cut open one loaf, layering it with sliced tomatoes and thick mozzarella from her refrigerator, then ate the sandwich right there, leaning over the sink to catch the crumbs. Finishing, she sighed gratefully and rooted around for a glass of water. "That's more like it… I've got to stop skipping lunch."
Taking her glass, she walked over to her computer and switched it on, then settled down. "Hm?" Her eyes narrowed as she scrolled through her inbox. "I don't know any Yumura Kirika…" Then she inhaled quickly as she read and re-read the message.
Surely… surely it couldn't have anything to do with-- that. It had been so long ago… and she'd left it all behind without anyone ever coming after her. There had never been an incident, except for the one that had driven her away…
"This can't be…" she faltered in a whisper, her face gone quite pale. But could she afford to take the chance? Hesitantly, she clicked on one of the attachments.
A quiet melody tinkled from her computer's speakers, an innocent-sounding music box tune, or something of the sort. But for Eunice, it was anything but innocent. Her back stiffened and her eyes snapped open wide with remembered horror-- the shot-- the blood on the ground, with no body-- that melody, far away and growing fainter still, taunting her as she struggled to reach it--
She exhaled in a shuddery sigh and slumped over as the music file reached its end. As if freed from a spell, she shook off her shivers and stared hard at the attached photograph. Yumura Kirika… too young to have been involved, but somehow, she knows… "I have no idea who you are," she murmured at last, "but I suppose I must come. If you are the one with answers."
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