Chapter 5 - The Return to Ash
n the fifth day, the grand iron gates of our estate creaked open. A luxury town car
drove up the winding driveway under a bright, mocking sun. Evan and Patricia emerged
from the vehicle, their skin golden brown from the Hawaiian sun. Their arms were laden with orange
Hermès shopping bags, sleek Chanel boxes, and high-end boutique garment bags. They were
laughing, talking loudly about the beautiful ocean breezes and the perfect sunset wedding.
"It was simply divine, Evan," Patricia said, adjusting her straw sunhat. "We must make Maui an
annual family tradition. Of course, next time we’ll have to convince Maya to leave her little anxieties
behind."
Evan smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. As they approached the front door, he noticed
something strange. The house was completely dark, the heavy drapes drawn. There was a quiet,
suffocating stillness surrounding the property. He unlocked the front door and stepped into the foyer.
The air inside felt cold, stale, and smelled faintly of antiseptic.
"Maya?" Evan called out, setting his designer luggage down. "We're home! Look what we got for
Noah." He pulled out a tiny, expensive cashmere baby romper from one of the bags.
No one answered. The silence of the house was absolute.
Then, a figure stepped out from the shadows of the living room. It was me. I was still wearing the
same cream-colored robe I had worn five days ago, but it was stained with dried blood, rain, and
tears. My hair was tangled, my face pale and hollow, and my eyes were completely devoid of the
warmth they once held. I looked like a ghost haunting my own home.
Evan’s smile faltered. He took a step back, shocked by my appearance. "Maya... what’s wrong with
you? Why are the lights off? Where is Noah?"
Patricia walked in behind him, scoffing as she dropped her shopping bags. "Oh, please, Maya. Are
you still playing this dramatic martyr routine? We’ve been gone for five days. Surely you’ve managed
to get some sleep by now."
I didn't say a word. I simply pointed to the coffee table in the center of the living room. Resting on
the polished mahogany wood was a small, elegant ceramic urn, pure white and cold to the touch. Next
The Price of a Sunset 5
E
to it lay a stack of medical documents from the pediatric intensive care unit, stamped with a bright
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red word: DECEASED.
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