Jack Bristow pulled up outside of his daughter's house. Outside it was dark
and heavy rain pounded onto the windows and roof of the car. He sat in the
idling car for a long moment before he switched off the engine and climbed
out of the warmth. He quickly locked the car and walked briskly up the path
to the front door. It all felt so normal. He could hardly believe that he
was there to tell his daughter's two best friends that she was dead. He
knocked loudly on the wooden door, ignoring the doorbell. After an
uncomfortable moment of waiting, the door was flung open by Will, with the
words:
"Syd? You forget your keys again?"
The half-teasing expression on his face changed as he saw exactly who was standing on the doorstep. He looked down at the beer bottle in his hand, the seemed to remember his manners
"Hello, Mr. Bristow." He said in a subdued voice, already half-expecting bad news. Why else would Syd's dad turn up on her doorstep in the middle of the night?
"Hello, Will. May I come in? I have some bad news." Jack said, keeping his voice perfectly neutral.
"Ugh. yeah, sure. Come on in." Will said, stepping back from the door so jack had room to enter the house. "Want me to take your coat?" Will asked.
"No, thank you." He said, then looked up with a stained smile as Francie entered the kitchen.
"Hey." She said
"Please, sit down." Jack said, taking a seat himself. He'd never been one to beat around the bush, so he came straight out with the truth. "Syd's dead." He said.
"Oh, God. Mr. Bristow, I'm so sorry. I had no idea." Francie said, then started to sob, quiet little sobs that were worse than anything else.
"I'm sorry." Will said. "how. how did it happen?"
"Her plane came down in severe turbulence over the French Alps. There where no survivors."
For a long moment, the only sound in the kitchen was Francie's quiet sobs. To Will, Jack didn't seem that upset by his only daughter's death. Maybe it's just some kind of shock, a delayed reaction, Will thought.
"I came to get some of her stuff, if that's okay." Jack asked
"Yeah, sure. Let me get you a box." Will said, feeling like he was dreaming- no having a nightmare. He could hardly believe that Syd was dead. He passed Jack the box and watched as the man made his way to Syd's bedroom. He seemed older somehow.
He came out about fifteen minutes later, still carrying the box, which was now stuffed full of Syd's things.
"Mr. Bristow?" Francie asked quietly as he made his way to the door. Her make up was ruined from her tears. Mascara had formed black lines down her face, carving lines in her base and powder.
"Yes?" he said tiredly, not having the energy to conduct a conversation. "If you need anything, feel free to stop by."
"Thank you." He said, touched by her offer. "I'll remember that." He offered her a strained smile and left the house, hating what he had just done.
The half-teasing expression on his face changed as he saw exactly who was standing on the doorstep. He looked down at the beer bottle in his hand, the seemed to remember his manners
"Hello, Mr. Bristow." He said in a subdued voice, already half-expecting bad news. Why else would Syd's dad turn up on her doorstep in the middle of the night?
"Hello, Will. May I come in? I have some bad news." Jack said, keeping his voice perfectly neutral.
"Ugh. yeah, sure. Come on in." Will said, stepping back from the door so jack had room to enter the house. "Want me to take your coat?" Will asked.
"No, thank you." He said, then looked up with a stained smile as Francie entered the kitchen.
"Hey." She said
"Please, sit down." Jack said, taking a seat himself. He'd never been one to beat around the bush, so he came straight out with the truth. "Syd's dead." He said.
"Oh, God. Mr. Bristow, I'm so sorry. I had no idea." Francie said, then started to sob, quiet little sobs that were worse than anything else.
"I'm sorry." Will said. "how. how did it happen?"
"Her plane came down in severe turbulence over the French Alps. There where no survivors."
For a long moment, the only sound in the kitchen was Francie's quiet sobs. To Will, Jack didn't seem that upset by his only daughter's death. Maybe it's just some kind of shock, a delayed reaction, Will thought.
"I came to get some of her stuff, if that's okay." Jack asked
"Yeah, sure. Let me get you a box." Will said, feeling like he was dreaming- no having a nightmare. He could hardly believe that Syd was dead. He passed Jack the box and watched as the man made his way to Syd's bedroom. He seemed older somehow.
He came out about fifteen minutes later, still carrying the box, which was now stuffed full of Syd's things.
"Mr. Bristow?" Francie asked quietly as he made his way to the door. Her make up was ruined from her tears. Mascara had formed black lines down her face, carving lines in her base and powder.
"Yes?" he said tiredly, not having the energy to conduct a conversation. "If you need anything, feel free to stop by."
"Thank you." He said, touched by her offer. "I'll remember that." He offered her a strained smile and left the house, hating what he had just done.