The ticking of the hands of the clock on the wall was deafening. It was the only sound in the deathly still hallway, despite the group of people gathered there. Not a breath, not a heartbeat to be heard. Everyone stood together in uneasy silence, waiting for the inevitable, waiting for the end.
The knob turned and a portly old man stepped out of the room. He pulled his glasses off as the crowd encircled him, cleaned them on his sleeve, and pushed them back up his nose. He looked Salum Barrows in the eye, shaking his head with a stern expression on his face.
Barrows covered his face with his hands, and his shoulders began to tremble. His action signaled a chorus of wails and cries from the black-clad men and women gathered in the hall.
Euram grabbed the old man's lapels and gave him a shake. "Can't anything be done? You're supposed to be a doctor! Why won't you do something!"
The man grabbed Euram's slender wrists and shoved him away. "I told you three days ago to prepare yourself for the worst. What did you expect?"
The pair continued to argue in the middle of the mourning crowd. A young woman with flowing blonde hair swayed dizzily. She shook her head to clear it, then staggered from the swarm and fumbled her way into what had become known as the "sick room."
"...Who's... there?" a hoarse voice croaked in the darkness.
Luserina's heart leapt into her throat. "Mother..." she whispered weakly.
"Ah... Daughter..." Mrs. Barrows sighed, her exhalation sounding like wheezing. "Come... come to me... darling."
"Yes, Mother!" Luserina flew to the chair next to her mother's bed, grasping for her hand and kissing it tenderly, fighting back tears.
"How is... everyone... taking it?"
"How are they taking what, Mother?" Luserina asked quietly.
A rasping laugh dispersed in a fit of coughs.
"Mother!" the girl cried, grabbing the glass of water on the bureau. But Mrs. Barrows waved the drink away, and at length her coughing ceased.
"You'll look after them... won't you, Luserina? Your father... and Euram... They need you to be strong for them."
Luserina bit her lip hard before answering. "...Yes, Mother."
"You're such a... such a good girl, my daughter..." She shuddered, gasping for just a little more air. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not afraid."
"Mother--!"
"And I know... I know you'll stay strong... for me."
"Yes. Yes, Mother. I will."
"Just... just do one th--thing for me, darling."
"Anything, Mother."
"...Let some light in." The sickly woman smiled with obvious effort. "I want to see the sun... once more..."
Warm tears spilled down Luserina's cheeks, but she nodded. "Yes, Mother." Patting her mother's hand and giving her forehead a soft kiss, she left the bedside to open the drapes. The warm afternoon sun spilled into the room as though to cleanse it of all impurity, as though the rays could heal the sick and drive away anything but happiness. But it was a wicked, deceiving sun.
"How's that, Mother?" Luserina asked, smiling as she turned to face the bed.
The woman lying buried beneath the covers was still staring at the ceiling, a peaceful smile resting eternally on her lips.