Chapter 2

June 6, 2014

It's been three days since Alvin, his wife, and their eldest child were laid to rest. News about them has spread all over the US. The owner of the second-largest retail business in New York City died tragically, filling newspaper columns, online news pages, and TV broadcasts.

However, Fathia didn't want to hear any of it. For her, the three of them are still here. Still in a crucial meeting being discussed in Metropolis. Fathia remembers, their visit was also intended for the soon-to-be-inaugurated new factory.

A knock on her bedroom door prompts Fathia to lift her face from the pillow. She doesn't want to move from there at all. She only eats because Naomi prepares it and ensures that the young miss eats properly, even though it's difficult to coax her.

"Just come in," Fathia responds, slightly tightening her voice. She thought it was Naomi entering, but she's mistaken. Sebastian enters with a sharp gaze in her direction. Without hesitation, he sits on the edge of her bed without asking for permission. Not far from where Fathia sits, eyeing Sebastian suspiciously. "Sebastian," she murmurs softly just to confirm that the man she recognizes is indeed the same person.

"Why didn't you want to eat this morning?"

Fathia lowers her face again. She shakes her head slightly in response.

"Eat, Fathia."

Once again, Fathia shakes her head. "I just want to join Mommy and Kak Felice."

One thing that Fathia now remembers about Sebastian's behavior toward her starts to come to mind. Without hesitation, Sebastian lifts her. Fathia screams, but he ignores it. Only when he places her in his car, a sedan she knows belongs to the sharp-eyed man, does Sebastian speak. "Let's eat."

"But I don't want to!"

"Eat, Fathia!"

For the first time, Sebastian uses a dominating tone. Fathia suddenly shrinks in spirit. All she does now is tighten her grip on the seatbelt that's wrapped around her.

Throughout the drive, Fathia remains silent, as does Sebastian. His strong arm grips the steering wheel tightly, unbeknownst to Fathia, a hint of regret creeping into his heart due to his earlier tone. When he turns off the car engine as a sign they've arrived at their destination, the girl doesn't want to say a word.

"We're here." Sebastian unbuckles his seatbelt and glances briefly at Fathia, who imitates his movements. "I'm sorry for speaking harshly earlier."

That statement successfully makes Fathia turn, bringing them face to face finally. Those eagle-sharp eyes have now turned into a much softer gaze. Fathia remembers, that look is what Sebastian always gave her when she was with Felice and her fiancé. Yeah. Sebastian is Felice's fiancé. Fathia feels that they both share the same pain of losing the same person.

"Yeah. I'm sorry too for making things difficult for you."

A gentle touch Fathia accepts, causing her to close her eyes briefly. Enjoying it. "Felice said you like the chicken soup here."

Then Fathia's eyes widen and eventually she chuckles. She smiles happily because this somehow lessens her sadness a bit. "Thanks, Sebastian."

"Let's eat, alright? This afternoon, Mr. Ronald will read the will. You know him, right?"

Her smile disappears right then.

***

Three days after Fathia's parents passed away.

June 6, 2014

Sebastian doesn't joke around with giving her information. When they arrive, the house is already filled with family members from both her mother's and father's sides. They all look at Fathia with keen interest. As if ready to have their heads reined in by the fifteen-year-old girl. Fathia shudders in terror as she watches them all. She tightens her grip on Sebastian's hand, who doesn't move from anywhere except by her side.

"I'm scared, Sebastian," Fathia whispers softly once they're seated in the living room. Some of them she knows, some she doesn't.

Sebastian, hearing Fathia's complaint, tilts his head slightly toward her. Trying to calm her. "I'm here. Just relax."

And they position themselves right by someone Fathia knows as her father's colleague, Ronald Nasution. She shakes hands and listens to the condolences from the middle-aged man's lips.

"Looks like everyone's gathered," Ronald starts speaking, causing the buzz that he's been hearing to stop. Silence follows as he greets everyone present, including when he glances at the youngest daughter of the person he's respected all this time. It's not just a work relationship; his connection with the Claire family is very strong. Ronald has never hesitated to help Felice, considering her like his own daughter.

Knowing that Alvin passed away tragically like this triggers different feelings in his mind. Maybe, after this, his job will become more challenging, but he's ready for it. Especially when he recalls a week ago, when Alvin humorously sent a letter. It made Ronald come to his friend's office without hesitation. Alvin bombarded him with numerous questions that left him utterly puzzled.

"A will is necessary, Ron. How can you not know something like that?" Alvin joked back then. At first, Ronald responded to that banter with a relieved smile, but upon receiving the news three days ago, he found himself pondering. Was that some kind of sign?

"I, Ronald Nasution, hereby declare that I have been granted the authority to act as the attorney for and on behalf of Alvin Mehram Claire, as his personal lawyer. In this matter, I am working under the personal jurisdiction for and on behalf of the core Claire family. This includes Mr. Alvin Mehram Claire as the grantor, along with Mrs. Rossieanne Thompson and their two daughters, Felice Leah Claire and Fathia Bernessa Claire."

Ronald gazes at each person there one by one. They all choose to wait because Ronald himself knows what they're waiting for. He wants to smile with joy but also feels a deep sense of fear.

"And with the granted authority, I am hereby legally authorized to read the will drafted by the grantor, in this case, Mr. Alvin Mehram Claire, BBA." Ronald takes a slow breath. He has read the will before; all the points listed there had furrowed his brow in confusion. But after receiving a quite sensible explanation, one in which he himself had agreed with Alvin's reasoning, he opens it slowly.