"I'm sorry..."
I heard a crashing sound before panic followed on the other side.
"The patient..."
"...resuscitate..."
Then it came.
The sound was faint at first, and a thin, trembling note came through the phone.
Then it held, unbroken. I didn't need anyone to tell me what it meant.
The silence on the other end said enough.
That single, steady tone felt like it was drilling straight through my chest.
I blankly looked at the phone screen.
I was completely unaware, living my life like usual in a foreign country, too focused on my things, not realizing that everyone was leaving me.
That call was from my eldest brother, the one who covered my eyes and ears to what was happening back home.
By the time I found out what was going on, it was already too late.
He was supposed to be the only one I'll come home to. Or so I thought.
An hour before my ten-hour flight home, my eldest brother called, just to tell me he was sorry. Then came that blaring sound of life ending in the hospital.
I did not even know how I was able to move and get on the plane. I just found myself sitting there looking down at the lights that were disappearing in the distance.
My name is Lilith Kingsley.
My grandfather was Jayden Kingsley.
An old man who loves playing chess with me whenever he finds me. I always find myself hiding from him once family dinners are over.
He was also the chairman of the Kingsley Conglomerate, one of the two oldest and most powerful families, standing beside the Sinclair Empire
My father was Leonard Kingsley, the CEO of the Kingsley Conglomerate.
He loves telling dad jokes and always waits for us to laugh, something my siblings and I would try so hard to do.
Both of them died March this year in a helicopter crash.
My mother, Hannah Cross, is a top surgical doctor.
She always had a gentle smile that soothed our sadness and anger.
She was sometimes called the Master Surgeon of the biggest hospital, Northbridge Medical Center. Someone who could save a life with steady hands and a scalpel.
Until she didn't.
She died a month after my father and grandfather.
My eldest brother, Riven Kingsley, was 30 and was thrown into the midst of the family business after our father and grandfather's deaths.
Always the strict one, he was the brother who straightened us out when our parents couldn't. But he was also always there when we needed our big brother.
He carried too much on his shoulders, and it broke him, just like it broke the rest of us.
My second brother, Christopher Kingsley, 25 years old, was the brother who had the most radiant smile, the kindest among us siblings.
He was in the entertainment industry and was consumed by its darkness, leaving behind nothing but works I don't know if I'd ever be able to watch again.
And my youngest sister, Amelia Kingsley, who was just 18 and studying in the most prestigious school.
The most mischievous, but never forgets what is right from wrong.
A week after Christopher, she died after falling off the building, brushed off as suicide.
They died six months after our mother.
And now, at the beginning of December, Riven died in the hospital, his body deteriorated over the course of ten months.
I am currently 23 years old. Graduated early in my chosen course and decided to expand my knowledge in a foreign country.
Because of the standing of my family, I did not bother with any news in my home country. While some news that I could have seen was taken down by Riven.
I don't know why, but they kept quiet about all these deaths.
If I did not think that something was amiss with all the times I asked him about them and checked on them in my own way, I wouldn't have known that only Riven remained.
But now, even he was gone, not letting me see him one last time.
I leaned back and closed my eyes, feeling empty.
...
"We are sorry for your loss."
Relatives and family friends said one after another during Riven's funeral.
I simply nodded my head.
Once everything was over, I was the only one standing in front of all their tombstones.
"All this time, you kept telling me you were busy. Busy with what? Lying there?"
From the moment I saw Riven's body, until today when he was buried with them, three days have passed.
Not once did I shed a tear, causing whispers from all those who came to offer their condolences.
Maybe because I still couldn't wrap my head around what suddenly befell my family?
"I offer you my sincerest condolences."
I turned to the person who spoke. I was caught up in my own thoughts I did not even realize someone had approached me.
But what's more surprising is the identity of this person.
Patrick Sinclair, the chairman of Sinclair Empire.
It is not like our families were close. If we ever had some dealings together, that would have been in the past.
He looked at me when I did not reply.
"Do you mind if we talk somewhere else?" he asked.
I frowned.
"Riven Kingsley left me something for you."
I was even more baffled as to why my brother would leave something to Patrick Sinclair?
And why would Patrick Sinclair do some errand for my brother?
I would have understood it if it were my grandfather, Jayden Kingsley, who left something to him. But my brother? Someone who took the reins of the company for only ten months?
A hatchling in Patrick Sinclair's eyes?
He would do something for someone like that?
Patrick smiled, an amicable smile.
I didn't trust it. Not coming from him.
From someone I never interacted with.
"Once you receive it, you'll understand why it was left with me," he said, like he was reciting a line from a script.
He then gestured for me to follow him.
I looked back at the tombstones before looking at his departing figure. Then I followed him.
What he has may have the answers and the reasons I was blinded and deafened by everything that happened to my family.