Damn it.
Wait. Now that I think about it, Alicia mentioned that her son, Aiden, is missing. Did something happen?
My thoughts jump all over the place, unable to stay in focus. The inability to think straight is paralysing. So much is going on in my brain and I couldn’t comb through everything, even if I tried.
All I know is that I need to get in touch with my sister. I need to make sure her family is safe, and I need her to tell me what to do.
My fingers hover over the number titled ‘Jonathan: Emergency Only.’ Alicia said to only call him if it’s a life or death situation and I’m unable to reach her.
This one definitely is.
My toes curl into my shoes as I hit the number and the phone rings. I haven’t met Jonathan even once since the wedding nine years ago. Alicia comes to visit alone and we usually keep up through calls. When I tell her to FaceTime, she says that’s for the younger generation, not her.
“Hello.” A strong voice brings me out of my reverie.
“H-hey…I…I’m…Clarissa…A-Alicia’s sister.”
“I know who you are.”
Oh. He remembers me. I don’t know why I thought I had to explain myself some more.
“I-is Alicia there? I’m trying to reach her and…”
“She’s dead.”
My heart nearly hits the ground for the second time today. “W-what?”
“The funeral is tomorrow. I expect you to be there.”
The line goes dead.
My heart follows soon after.
He…can’t mean what I think he does, right?
I call him again, but there’s no answer.
No, no, no.
I flip open my browser and search Alicia King. That’s what I usually do when I miss her. I study her pictures with Jonathan and their son on the internet from fundraisers and parties.
The results that enumerate in front of me aren’t of those joyful events, though.
‘Breaking News: Alicia King found dead after a tragic accident.’
‘Jonathan King is a widower after the death of his wife, Alicia King.’
‘An accident takes the life of Alicia King, Jonathan King’s wife.’
The first droplets of rain hit my screen and more soon follow.
My legs abandon me and I drop to the ground as I see the pictures of Alicia’s white car, the one she used to take me all over town with as we shopped and ate.
Then the images of a body covered in a white sheet appear.
The rain blurs my vision as I scroll through the articles, all from today.
Alicia is dead. My sister is dead.