The next few days pass in a blur of anger. I remain mostly silent and withdrawn, though only when I am outside, taking strolls with Emmie, or alone, in the backyard garden, amidst the ocean of thoughts swimming in the air as people come and go.
I have not returned home ever since Emmie and I took a taxi to come back. Though, this time, I locked the door, and I took the keys. And during this time, nothing much, or rather, nothing noteworthy happened. Of course, save, maybe, for the police who came to find Liz and I to close the case of the isolated terror attack we have been the victim of. And it seems that our neurologist mother and our engineer and programmer father have been so successful that there are rumors about some project of theirs, a project the supposed result of which had attracted the terrorist called 'Mike Donovan'.
The conclusion was very convincing, and I believed it. I believed it enough to remain expressionless and listen till the end, before using my indifference to see the officers off after looking down at their feet, and asking casually:
"So, did you find the rumored research results after searching through our house?"
Though, I now wonder what would have happened if Liz had not immediately diffused the short bout of stillness that had followed my question with her gentle smile and her disarming voice as she protectively held me by with a half embrace.
The short but cold silence at that time was unlike anything I have ever felt. It is like the thoughts they have been letting float without any discrepancy with their words had just been a façade, an illusion. And only when they have restrained all their thoughts, like 'Mike' the terrorist did, had they shown the truth.
"Max!"
Emmie's call snaps me out of my thoughts. I turn toward her, and she smiles, before walking over. It is another day of her coming to keep me company.
I look at her, and let out the façade that has become practiced. I let out a light smile, calm, quiet, but without any gloom, only introverted, as anyone would be after two misfortunes the size of a mountain in just half a year or so, plus some perverse pedophilic professor incident in-between.
Everyone in my place would feel lucky to not have lost anything, or anyone, during the second tragedy.
"Mie."
The nickname I have been using to call her lately brings more brightness to the redhead's smile as she sat down on the bench beside me. And she would have crashed into me if not for my state.
Her vitality, like warm fire almost gets to the gloom in my heart, but it fails to melt it because of something faint, very faint, but there:
'How can I help her deal with her depression?'
That's right. That is Emmie's thoughts which I was not actively reading, or even trying to. I have always maintained a sense of boundary. Apart from thoughts floating around in the air which I can't do anything about, like pollution you can't separate from the air you breathe, I always try not to casually read minds.
Of course, I use it to cheat at school to make myself absorb information better, learn better. And I use it when not for casual reasons too. But now, even without trying, even without focusing, I catch the content of her mind, something not even quite surface level.
I take a light breath, and exhale. I turn away and ignore the burst of sadness that comes from Emmie.
'Max was about to show a smile, but it is now gone.'
I don't turn to see her downcast look and change the subject lightheartedly:
"I never would have thought I would spend the holidays in the hospital. I'm coming to like this place less and less."
'Of course. This is the third time this half a year, and every time something serious happened.'
"Then when will you be discharged? Actually, you are only waiting for Lizbeth, aren't you? When will she be discharged?"
I blink, and ignore the thought that has come before the words, and focus on the warmth of the hand resting on mine as I answer with a light smile, a true one this time, carrying happiness.
"Liz has been recovering well, so she will be discharged tomorrow."
"That's fantastic! You won't have to spend the new year in the hospital! I will come help you and Liz tomorrow."
The words were said in a single breath, accompanied with a breathless promise at the end. My smile widens. I open my mouth to agree, but change my words when hesitation flickers in Emmie's red eyes.
'...but…tomorrow… training… club…'
The thought is fainter this time, but there, and it forces me to take a deep breath and change my agreement into a question.
"You have training with the swimming club tomorrow, right?"
"You remember!!"
Emmie exclaims with wide eyes. Many emotions flick past her eyes. There is joy that I remembered that despite what I have been through, the guilt at the hesitation she has not yet finished forming in her heart, and a tangled mess of complexity that includes pity for me, that I have to be so considerate of her even in my state when I need company and help.
I turn away and say with feigned casualness :
"Go. Don't worry. I have recovered enough to take care of big sis alone. She is also able to walk now, just not on long distance or for a long time. And my leg is recovering well. My limp has improved for the better."
Emmie looks at me with a look asking if I was sure, and I hold her gaze with my blue eyes. It takes a while for her to be convinced that I can help Liz get discharged and take care of bringing her home. Though she is only convinced for a second before looking at me again and warming my heart.
"But Max, I can take a leave from the training. I can come and help you. Will you not have to tidy up the house? You can't do that alone even though you are recovering well!"
'I can't let them do it alone. I will also see if Helene can make herself available to help.'