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My father’s body lay there on the slab. They’d put him in a black body bag that was unzipped halfway down his chest.

It was strange to see him like that. I hadn’t seen him in a bathing suit since I was a kid, so seeing him now, half-naked and exposed, was very strange.

Almost as strange as seeing him dead.

His skin was pale and white with a light blue tint to it. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping.

Curiously, I didn’t feel anything. That body on the slab wasn’t my father. My father was alive; my father was an oil baron, a titan of industry, a king among billionaires.

This thing that lay in front of me… it was just a husk. Just an empty shell. It was the mask without the soul behind it.

My father was gone.

The doctor was saying something. “…likely heart attack… blood screening… report in a few days…”

“Okay,” I said, hoping it would shut him up. I didn’t want to hear anymore.

The doctor peered at me closely, like he was looking for some sort of sign. Like he was worried. “Do yo