"Stay here, sweetheart," my mom said. But I could barely understand a word she said. My head was hurting so bad. My body felt hot all over, and the rain was so loud.
She made me sit under the waiting shed as she ran to the road. I saw our things were scattered on the cement. She probably dropped them because she was very tired from carrying them and me all day.
I've seen this scene before. . . and it made me uneasy. My eyes were weary, but I could see my hands. . . they were tiny and shaking. I was inside my body, but it seemed as if I had no control over it.
A loud thud made me jerk and open my eyes. I could no longer see my mom and instead saw a car. The door opened from the other side, but I couldn't see the person who opened it.
"What the heck?" I heard a girl laughing from inside the car.
I had been sick for days, and mom couldn't afford to bring me back to the hospital. But I forced myself down the bench, gathering all the strength I could muster.
"Mom?" I called out, my voice was weak and small. I walked toward the car while embracing myself as it was cold.
My entire body froze when I found her unconscious on the ground. I fell back and yelled for her a couple more times. The car suddenly backed away from her body, and I realized how much blood was around my mother.
I quickly crawled toward her, crying even though what happened hadn't sunk into me yet.
"Mom? Mommy?" I called her over and over. I gently shook her shoulder, hoping it would wake her up. But then it dawned on me: she had been hit by a car and may die.
I looked back at the car, but the headlights blinded me. I squinted my eyes as I reached for help.
"H-help! Please!" I cried.
The car started moving backward, and then it spun around to leave.
"No! Help us!" I cried again. I looked back at my mom. Her blood had drenched my clothes and hands. I was shaking and didn't know what to do.
It was dark, the cold wind was hitting my face, and the rain was getting stronger. I picked up my mom's old phone. But it wasn't working anymore. My eyes desperately searched for something--someone, anyone that could help us, and there was no one. No one was going to help us.
All I could do was cry as I struggled to breathe.
"Somebody. . ." I swallowed hard as I tried to lift my mom from the pavement. My vision kept blurring, but I couldn't let her lie on that cold road.
"Please," I whispered, hugging my mother's body. She was all I had.
A wave of overwhelming emotions surged through my veins. I jolted on my bed, panting and screaming. I felt lightheaded, and my heart was about to burst out of my chest.
"Yvonne?"
I whipped my head to the side and saw a familiar face. Still panting, I began to recognize my surroundings.
A nightmare--No, the memory of my mother's death. It was just a memory, I told myself.
"Yvonne, it's okay. You're safe," Callum said. His hands were extended but weren't touching me. He was waiting for me to snap out of another one of my night terrors.
"Cal," I cried as I rushed to hug him.
He wrapped his arms around me and cradled my head as he tried to soothe me. My whole body was cold, and I was sweating bullets.
"It's okay," he said in a hushed tone. "I'm here. You're here with me."
I cried in his chest, still caught up in the memory. The sight of my mother's body lying in her own blood was etched in my mind. I was ten years old when it happened, but I could still see it vividly when I closed my eyes.
"I saw it again," I told him, my face still buried in his chest. "I was scared."
"I know, baby. I know." He was gently stroking my hair.
We stayed like that until I calmed down. I loosened my hold around Callum's waist and looked up at him. It has been a month or so since I last had those night terrors. Ever since Callum and I got together, my nightmares were lessened. But they never really left me.
"They just left. . . how could they just leave us there?" I asked.
Callum quietly listened to me, and I was glad he was with me.
"They drove away. . . I could've forgiven them if they. . . if only they didn't run from what they did." I continued to cry. "And they covered it up. I was sure of it, but no one listened because I was young and sick when it happened."
I was sure that I heard a female's voice, but the one who surrendered to the police station was an old businessman, and he claimed to be alone in the car when the accident happened. They accepted his fake confession and placed him behind bars. But I knew it wasn't that man who was driving that car.
I still had a lot of secrets from Callum. But how my mother died wasn't one of them, and he had heard this story a hundred times before.
"Bonnie, do you need water?" he asked, loosening his hold of me.
"No, stay," I said, a little panicked. "Don't leave me alone."
I wasn't always this fragile or vulnerable, only when the ghosts of my past decided they weren't done haunting me. My grip on Callum's shirt slackened as I leaned my head against his chest.
"I won't," he whispered softly. "I got you."
Back then, I couldn't even trust Callum. All I needed from him was money. I couldn't afford to search for the culprit behind my mother's death. They closed my mother's case with the real culprit still free while I was left alone without anyone to care for me. I studied so hard and worked just as much, but something always went wrong.
I had a scholarship in college, but my grades for one subject dropped drastically, and my scholarship was revoked. I graduated college thanks to the odd jobs I took, and I thought life would finally get better. However, none of the companies I applied for accepted my application.
I couldn't even give my mother the justice she deserved because I was too busy keeping myself alive. But Callum found me in my small town and offered to change my life. All I had to do was marry him to help him out of an arranged marriage. It was supposed to be a three-year-contract, but he had a way of making my heart waver. Until it finally gave in.
"Are you okay now?" he asked, stroking my back.
"Thank you," I whispered. Callum gently pushed my shoulders away from him. His warm gaze found my eyes.
"You're my wife. You don't have to thank me for caring for you," he said. Callum kissed my forehead before asking, "Do you want to go down and have something to drink with me?"
I smiled at him and nodded in response. Callum pulled me out of bed, and we walked to our kitchen. We don't have maids because I told him I'd take care of the household chores, but he ended up splitting it with me even though he wasn't used to it at first.
Callum took two mugs from the cupboards. I joined him in the kitchen as I grabbed packets of hot chocolate, my favorite, which he also grown to enjoy after drinking it with me several times.
We sat down on our bar stools with our mugs in hand. It was one of the fastest ways to calm me down, and he knew that well.
"Yvonne, you're trying to open your mother's case. Right?" he asked. "Why can't I help?"
I stilled at his question. Then, I carefully placed the mug on the island counter. I wanted to do it on my own for my mother. I agreed to marry him before, and I planned to use the money I would get from the contract to make a decent living for myself and to open my mother's case again. But all my plans changed after what we had become real.
It was different now because I didn't have to worry about our contract ending. I wouldn't have to worry about starving alone again. But I didn't want to depend on Callum for everything, so I opened a coffee shop using my savings. Perhaps my income didn't mean much when my husband was CEO of a big company. But I was happy with my own achievements, and he was supportive.
But I still had zero progress with reopening my mother's case. They didn't want to open a case that had been 'solved' years ago.
"She's my mother. I should be able to do it for her. So we can both be at peace."
"Let me help you. I'm not just anyone, Yvonne. I'm your husband. She's your family and mine," he said. "I can help you. We can find the culprits together, and when we do, you can finally do whatever you want with them. I can ruin their lives slowly. I can make them wish they were dead. I can give you what you want."
I guess no matter how hard I tried to contain the hatred I felt for the people that caused my mom's demise, he still saw glimpses of them.
"Cal, I don't need revenge. I could never forgive them, but I don't want to be as cold-blooded as them. They disgust me." The person who did that to my mom and everyone who helped her cover it up, I will find them.
"Then what is it? What do you want?"
"Something so expensive that I couldn't afford before. " I looked at Callum. "I want justice."