|| 3rd person POV ||
The next day, around 13:00, Adrien, Maya's father, is at the factory as usual.
He works at a textile factory as a weaver. It is a complicated and sometimes risky job; one of his colleagues lost two fingers a few years ago in an accident with the machinery.
A ringtone sounds, it's his cell phone.
He's about to turn it off so it won't disturb him at work, but when he opens his flip phone, he's surprised to see the name "Saint Thérèse Hospital" displayed on the small screen.
He swallows hard with a forced *GULP* and feels uncomfortable.
Against all his professional principles, he accepts the call and brings the phone to his right ear.
"Hello, this is Dr. Martin from Saint Thérèse Hospital. Are you Mr. Dreamweaver?"
He takes a few seconds to collect his thoughts and replies, "Hello, yes, that's me. Is... is my daughter okay?"
The silence on the other end of the line only deepens his anxiety, then that silence is replaced by a voice full of empathy.
"I'm sorry to tell you this... today at 12:34, your daughter, Maya Dreamweaver, succumbed to her cancer."
…
The sounds of machinery become increasingly distant for Adrien.
His trembling hands drop his phone to the floor, his breathing becomes ragged, and he feels a sharp pain in his side, yet he bends down to pick up his phone, which slips from his fingers again and falls.
"Sir? Are you still there?" The doctor's voice does not reach Adrien's ears. He is on his knees, in tears, trying in vain to catch his phone.
Seeing their colleague in such a state, the other weavers stop working and look at him in surprise.
The nearest one crouches, picks up his phone, and puts it in Adrien's hands. "Hey, are you okay?"
Adrien doesn't answer. He holds the phone to his ear and says in a trembling voice, "This is a mistake, isn't it?"
"I..."
"Yes, it must be a mistake... please tell me it's a mistake..." he says, sniffing back tears.
"I'm sorry... I have other patients to attend to. Can you come to the hospital?"
At the same time, the factory owner enters the warehouse. He is not happy that employees came to see him in the middle of a meeting to tell him about recent events.
"Mr. Dreamweaver..." As he is about to scold the troublemaker, he sees the man crying among the machines, who turns his head to look at him.
His stern eyes meet the man's misty eyes.
"My daughter..." are the only words he can utter before the boss looks at him with pity. He knows about his daughter's illness; it is even for her sake that he agreed to work here.
Sighing, he said, "Come on, I'll drive you there. You're clearly in no condition to drive."
He looked at his other employees and frowned, signaling that they should get back to work.
He approached Adrien and helped him up, taking him to his car in the parking lot.
…
Once parked in front of the hospital, Adrien rushes out of the car.
On his way, he bumps into people but doesn't have time to apologize; he must see his daughter.
Inside the hospital, he ignores the nurse at the reception desk and runs up the stairs two at a time.
He enters the hospital room and sees an empty bed with rumpled sheets.
"Ma! Where are you?" Even though he knows what the doctor said, he clings to the glimmer of hope that it's not true, that she got out of bed and hid to play a joke on him.
Moments later, two security guards arrive. They have been following him since he entered the hospital. After all, seeing someone ignore the reception desk and run through the hallways is suspicious.
When Adrien sees the guards, he runs towards the first one, grabs him by the collar, and yells at him, "WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?!" while bursting into tears.
The guard, taken by surprise, puts his hand on his baton, which is attached to his belt, but before he can do anything, a doctor arrives. "Mr. Dreamweaver? I'm the doctor Martin"
Adrien turns his head to look at him, but before he can say anything, the doctor continues, "Follow me, I'll take you to see your daughter."
The doctor steps forward and lays a hand on the guard's shoulder. "Bob, it's okay, I'll take care of it."
.
.
.
|| Adrien's POV ||
Following the doctor, I don't notice that we are heading towards the basement. My mind is elsewhere, too fogged to think straight.
The doctor stops in front of a door marked "morgue"
Reading the sign, my heart races. "No, it can't be..."
Before I can protest, the doctor opens the door… and I see her, lying on a table, covered with a sheet, only her head peeking out from under the blanket.
I walk towards her, trying to call out to her, but my voice is stuck in my throat.
My legs start to shake, but I force myself to stay balanced.
I reach out my hand to her forehead. It's cold.
Then I collapse.