DEATH CALL 2

MUSIC RECOMMENDATION: HONOUR HIM, HANZ ZIMMER.

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HAMILTON TOWER,

On the top floor of Hamilton Enterprises, Alanis stood alone in his vast office, silhouetted against the floor-to-ceiling glass. The city stretched out before him, an endless maze of lights. He usually found solace in this view, but today, it was a hollow comfort. One hand was deep in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette that hung from his lips. He took a slow drag, letting the smoke settle in his chest before releasing it, as though hoping it could clear the chaos in his mind.

He sighed.

He was in the worst mood now.

The source of his turmoil was both frustrating and absurd. Something he shouldn't be thinking about.

Harlow...

She'd slipped back into his life, bringing with her a storm he hadn't anticipated. He hadn't slept since hearing the news of her miscarriage.

She was pregnant...

Why didn't she fucking say anything?

He cursed himself for being so absent, for spending most of their marriage away from her and their home. And yet, even as he tried to shake off his thoughts, her face lingered in his mind over again.

The way he'd seen her last, fragile and broken. Those blue eyes, sad lips, those tears...

She'd signed the divorce papers, too, cutting their last tie. He frowned, the thought gnawing at him.

She'd adored him since their high school days, nearly obsessed. Yet he had never felt the same way—so why, now, did he feel this hollow ache in his chest?

Pity wasn't the right word, it was something deeper, something dangerously close to regret. She wasn't with him, yet for some reason, she was driving him to the brink of madness, despite himself, he wanted to see her again.

He took another long drag, but even the familiar burn of smoke couldn't ease the strange sense of loss pressing down on him. This distraction had followed him even into his business meeting earlier that day. What kind of spell had she cast on him?

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. Just then, the door opened, and Gus, his assistant, entered.

"What is it, Gus?" Alanis asked, not turning to look. His tone was impatient, the intrusion felt like an unwelcome interruption, yet he couldn't shake the image of Harlow from his mind.

The innocence on her face, her coldness that day, the tears from her eyes, the bruises on her skin. He still couldn't understand why she was willing to give their son away so quickly. Did she not want Alex anymore?

Had she had enough of him?

Or perhaps, she has found someone else? His thoughts only angered him more. The thought of Harlow with someone else. But he shouldn't be mad right?

Divorcing her has been all he wanted right?

"Sir, I'm here with a package from Mrs. Blackwood. She asked me to give this to you personally." At the mention of her name, Alanis turned, his attention snapping to the items Gus held. A vase and a stack of documents.

"Put them on the table." Alanis's gaze lingered on the items, curiosity stirring in him. Harlow had always been a mystery, her strange gestures and antics often irritating him.

He reached for the vase first, lifting the lid to peer inside. Ashes. He frowned, tipping a small portion of the ashes into his hand before brushing them back inside. What was this woman trying to tell him? This trick, whatever it was had to have some meaning. The faintest chuckle escaped him. Where once he'd found her antics annoying, now he was strangely amused.

Then he picked up the first document: a doctor's report. His son, Alex, had been diagnosed with a severe heart condition. Alanis froze. Each line seemed to punch through him as he read the diagnosis, the grim prognosis.

He put down the first report and picked up the next—a progress update on Alex's health, equally bleak. The full reality began to sink in. All those times he had dismissed her, all those accusations he'd thrown at her… had she been carrying this burden alone?

Alanis went through report after report until he reached the second to last document, and his breath caught up in his throat. At the top, in official, unforgiving text, were the words "Certificate of Death."

He skimmed through the formal lines, his hand tightening around the paper.

"I, Gabriel, county clerk of Halkhalls City, hereby certify the death of Alex Hamilton..."

Alanis dropped the paper as if it had burned him. He turned sharply to Gus, who watched him with pity.

"What is this?" he demanded, his voice raw.

Gus hesitated before answering. "I'm afraid it's true, sir. Your son… he passed away the night before you took Miss Claudia to the hospital."