Chapter 2

The night was cold, and the wind blew furiously through my hair as I walked down the dark, desolate street. Memories of my late parents flooded my mind, a torrent of images and sounds that tugged at my heart. I remembered our laughter, the warmth of their embraces, and the countless moments we shared, all cruelly ended when death decided to take them away.

As I wandered aimlessly, the sounds of distant sirens wailed through the night, mingling with the acrid smell of smoke that filled the air and stung my nose. I was about to turn towards home when a sharp, agonizing noise stopped me in my tracks. It was a cry of pain, raw and desperate, piercing the cold silence.

My heart pounded as I sprinted towards the sound, my breath coming in short, frantic gasps. Rounding a corner, I stumbled upon a horrifying scene: a group of men were viciously beating my uncle.

“Hey, let go of him!" I screamed, my voice a mix of terror and fury. I didn't think; I just acted, rushing forward and shoving the men away from my uncle with all the strength I could muster.

“Who are you?" one of the men snarled, his eyes narrowing as he pointed at me with a stern, menacing glare.

"I'm his niece," I replied, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me. My revelation seemed to stun them, their expressions shifting to one of surprise and calculation.

The men eyed me hungrily, their gazes filled with a lustful, predatory intent that made my skin crawl and filled me with unease.

"Why are you hurting my uncle?" I cried out, desperate for an explanation.

"Well, you see, your uncle did something very stupid," one of the men explained nonchalantly, punctuating his statement with a brutal kick to my uncle's gut.

My uncle groaned in pain, curling into himself on the ground. Desperation surged through me as I realized the gravity of the situation. I had to protect him, despite all his flaws and the anger I often felt towards him.

Desperation surged through me as I realized the gravity of the situation. I had to protect him, despite all his flaws and the resentment I often felt towards him.

“He stole from the boss”The leader’s words sent a chill down my spine, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. My uncle, who stood beside me with a defeated expression, seemed to shrink under the weight of the accusation.

“What… what money?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper as I struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

“The boss’s money,” the leader reiterated, his tone cold and unforgiving as he delivered the damning verdict. And with those words, he raised his foot and delivered a brutal kick to my uncle’s side, causing him to double over in pain.

The sight of my uncle writhing on the ground filled me with a sense of helplessness and despair. I had always known that he had his faults, but I never imagined that he would stoop to theft, let alone from someone as dangerous as the boss.

As I looked into my uncle’s eyes, I saw a flicker of guilt and shame, and my heart broke for him. Despite his flaws, he was still family, and the thought of him suffering because of his mistakes weighed heavily on my conscience.

“How much?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as fear and adrenaline coursed through my veins.

The leader of the group, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek, sneered at me. “More than you can imagine,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “But we might be willing to make a deal, if you can come up with the money.”

I swallowed hard, my mind racing for a solution. “I’ll find a way to pay you,” I promised, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could think them through. “Just stop hurting him.”

The men exchanged glances, clearly amused by my determination. “You’ve got one week,” the scarred man said, stepping closer to me. “If you don’t have the money by then, we’ll come back. And it won’t be pretty.”

They released my uncle, who crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. I rushed to his side, helping him sit up as the men walked away, their laughter echoing in the night.

“Uncle, are you okay?” I asked, my voice shaking as I looked at his battered face.

He groaned and nodded weakly. “I’m sorry, Alyssa,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean for you to get involved in this.”

I struggled to help my uncle up, his body weighed down by pain and exhaustion. “It’s okay, uncle, you don’t need to talk,” I reassured him, attempting to support him so we could make our way home. But our plan was brutally shattered when the leader of the gang received a phone call.

As I guided my limping uncle forward, the leader’s voice pierced the air, commanding us to halt. “Stop there!” he bellowed, signaling his cohorts who promptly seized my uncle from my grasp.

My heart raced with fear as I stuttered, “What’s happening?” My outstretched hand reached for my uncle, but they yanked him away, a gun suddenly trained on my head.

In a trembling voice, I pleaded, “I promise to pay back the money,” though terror gripped every word.

The leader’s cold, indifferent tone sent shivers down my spine. “It is too late for that now,” he declared, revealing that he was merely a pawn carrying out the wishes of a higher authority. “The boss doesn’t want his money anymore.”

My throat tightened, each breath feeling like razors. “Then what does he want?” I managed to choke out, my voice barely audible.

The leader turned to me, his expression twisted in a cruel smirk. “Death,” he proclaimed callously, before two deafening shots rang out, extinguishing the life from my uncle’s eyes as he crumpled to the cold ground, his blood staining the pavement.

An eerie silence enveloped the scene as my head spun with disbelief and horror. The gang members hurriedly fled at the sound of approaching sirens, leaving me kneeling beside my uncle, surrounded by his crimson pool of blood.

——

Suddenly, two days ago, a vivid memory came crashing down on my mind like a tidal wave. I recalled the moment I stepped into my uncle’s room to find him immersed in a surreal scene. There he was, sprawled across his bed, surrounded by a vast pool of cash.

As I entered the room, my expression was a mix of worry and confusion. “Uncle,” I called out, my voice trembling with uncertainty. His reaction was immediate; he jerked upright, his eyes wide with surprise at my unexpected intrusion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone tinged with nervousness as he hastily tried to compose himself. But my attention was drawn elsewhere, fixed on the staggering amount of money scattered around him.

Ignoring his question, I pressed on, my disbelief evident in my voice. “Where did you get this money from?” I demanded, my gaze locked on him. His response was defensive, almost rehearsed, as if he had been anticipating this confrontation.

“I found it,” he claimed, his words lacking conviction as he hurriedly began gathering the money into a nearby bean bag, as if attempting to erase any evidence of its existence. But his explanation only fueled my suspicions. How could one stumble upon such a fortune without a hint of guilt or explanation?

“We need to return the money to the owner then,” I insisted, my voice firm with determination as I reached for the scattered bills. But before I could make a move, my uncle’s hand shot out, pushing me away with surprising force.

“Are you insane?” he shouted, his eyes ablaze with anger. “It’s my money, okay? Now get out!” His words stung, but I refused to back down.

“Uncle, please,” I pleaded, attempting to reason with him. But he only shoved me further towards the door, causing me to stumble and nearly fall to the ground.

“Don’t you dare enter my room again, or I’ll throw you out of my house!” he threatened, his tone laced with venom as he slammed the door shut behind me.

Defeated, I stood outside, my heart heavy with frustration and disappointment. “Fine, keep the money,” I muttered under my breath, my voice thick with resentment. “But I promise you, you’ll regret this decision.”

As I walked away, anger burned within me, mingling with the sting of betrayal. Tears welled in my eyes as I replayed the painful encounter in my mind, each moment cutting deeper than the last. But amidst the turmoil, a flicker of determination remained, fueled by the unwavering belief that justice must prevail.

As I stood by my uncle’s hospital bed, watching him fight for his life, the memories of our confrontation flooded back with a bitter clarity. The beeping of the monitor echoed in the sterile room, a stark reminder of the fragility of life. Despite the rift between us, I couldn’t bring myself to leave his side, even as the doctors and nurses urged me to step away.

I watched my uncle take his final breath, a heavy silence descending upon the room as the steady rhythm of the monitor came to an abrupt halt. The reality of his passing washed over me like a tidal wave, leaving me numb and disoriented in its wake.

With trembling hands and a heavy heart, I stood by his bedside, unable to tear my gaze away from his still form. He had been more than just a relative; he had been a constant presence in my life, a source of guidance and support through the years.

As I walked through the dimly lit corridors of the hospital, the weight of his absence pressed down on me, each step a painful reminder of the void left in his wake. Memories of our time together flickered in my mind, fleeting glimpses of laughter and shared moments that now felt like distant echoes of the past.

But amidst the grief and the overwhelming sense of loss, one question lingered, a puzzle yet to be solved: who had called in those final moments, and why chose death over money?