Chapter 52

Chapter 52
Joanna's POV

I sat on the couch, my heart still racing from Elodie's story and Sebastian's grief-stricken face when he uttered those words: "She died." I bit my lip, gathering courage to ask the question burning inside me.

"Sebastian, about Elodie..." My voice trembled slightly. "Is there anything else? I mean, could you tell me more about her?"

'I need to know more. Maybe then I'll understand why hearing about her death hurts me so much.'

Sebastian's eyes turned cold. The cigarette between his fingers quivered almost imperceptibly as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. His voice was frigid and distant when he finally spoke.

"Knowing this much is enough."

The finality in his tone left no room for argument. I opened my mouth to press further, but the look in his eyes made all my courage evaporate instantly.

'He doesn't want to talk about it. No matter how much I ask, he won't tell me more.'

I lowered my head in silence, my fingernails digging into my palms. Why did Elodie's story feel like a thorn lodged in my heart? Why did her name echo in my mind like a half-forgotten melody?

The office fell into a deathly silence. Sebastian leaned back against the sofa, continuing to smoke, the gray wisps curling toward the ceiling.

I closed my eyes, trying to recall my childhood—anything before I turned thirteen—but there was only a blank void where memories should be.

'What if... what if I have something to do with Elodie?'

The thought struck like lightning, making my eyes snap open. My heart hammered against my ribs.

'No, that's impossible, right? But why does my chest ache so much when I hear about her death? Why does it feel like I'm mourning someone I should know?'

I glanced at Sebastian from the corner of my eye. His profile was still hard and unforgiving, his eyes staring vacantly out the window. The cigarette had burned down between his fingers.

'Sebastian, what do you know that I don't? Are you just seeing me as her shadow? Or is there something more?'

I wanted to ask these questions aloud, but fear kept them locked inside. Fear of his answers. Fear of what they might mean.

---

The silence stretched unbearably until Sebastian suddenly stood up, crushing his cigarette in an ashtray. His voice was cold and detached when he spoke.

"You can go now. The company will settle your salary, plus appropriate severance pay for termination."

I jerked my head up in shock, the words hitting me like a physical blow.

"Termination?" I whispered, unable to process what I was hearing. 'He's firing me? Sebastian, you're really going to push me away?'

Sebastian didn't look at me. His voice remained emotionless, as if discussing the weather. "Peter will have your belongings packed and sent to your home. No need to go back and collect them yourself. Your mother's surgery has been completed; she should be out of danger now."

My heart felt like it was being torn apart. Tears welled up in my eyes as the reality sank in.

'Sebastian, you've arranged everything... just to make sure I leave completely?'

I stood up abruptly, grabbing his arm before I could think better of it. "Sebastian, does it really have to be this way?" My voice cracked with emotion.

He stopped but didn't turn around. His back was rigid, his shoulders tense under my touch. But he said nothing, just stood there like a statue.

After a moment, he gently pulled away and walked out of the office, closing the door behind him with a quiet, final click.

---

When the door shut, something inside me shattered. I collapsed back onto the couch, covering my face as violent sobs tore through me.

'Sebastian, you really left. You didn't even give me a single glance. Is this what you wanted all along?'

I cried until my throat was raw and my eyes burned. The pain in my chest was unbearable, like someone had ripped out something vital.

'I thought I could handle your anger, but I never expected you'd cut me off so completely. I didn't think it would hurt this much.'

After what felt like hours, I wiped my tears and took several deep breaths. 'Enough, Joanna. Crying won't change anything. He doesn't want you anymore. It's over.'

I walked out of his office toward my desk, intending to collect my things, only to find there was hardly anything to take. Just a few sticky notes and a pen. Everything else would be packed up and delivered, like Sebastian had said. He'd thought of everything to ensure I wouldn't need to return.

I left the building empty-handed, the setting sun harsh in my eyes. 'Empty-handed when I came, empty-handed when I leave. Maybe it's better this way. Sebastian, from today on, we're really done. I won't look back again.'

---

I stood outside my mother's hospital room, clutching a bag of fruit, taking deep breaths to compose myself. 'Joanna, you can't let Mom worry. No matter how much it hurts, you have to pretend everything's fine.'

I plastered on a smile and pushed the door open. "Mom, look! I got my paycheck and bought your favorite oranges."

My mother lay in the hospital bed, her color slightly better than before. The surgery had gone well, and the doctor said she could go home in a week if she continued to take her medication regularly.

She smiled as she took the oranges from me. "Thank you, Joanna. You work too hard."

I sat beside her bed, peeling an orange and feeding her segments. The simple act of caring for her helped steady my shaking hands.

Daniel pushed the door open then, his eyes immediately finding mine. His expression darkened. "Joanna, have you left that company?"

I nodded, forcing a smile. Daniel glanced at our mother, clearly not wanting to upset her.

Mother looked at me with a puzzled expression, clearly wanting to ask something, but before she could say a word, Tommy burst in carrying his backpack, his cheerful voice filling the entire room.

"Mom! Joanna! Daniel!"

I ruffled his hair, grateful for the distraction. "It's nothing, Mom. The previous job wasn't good, so I'll find a new one."

Mom nodded, though concern lingered in her eyes.

Daniel spoke quietly, "Don't worry, I'll work harder."

Looking at them, tears threatened to spill again. 'Yes, we'll manage. From today, I need to forget Sebastian, forget all that pain, and just live for my family.'

But as I thought about Sebastian, I suddenly remembered the ache I'd felt when he mentioned Elodie's death, and my inability to recall my childhood before age thirteen.

"Mom," I asked hesitantly, "what was I like as a child? Before the accident, I mean."

My mother's hand froze mid-air, the orange segment trembling slightly. Daniel's posture stiffened beside me.

"Why are you asking about that now?" Daniel's voice sounded strained.

"I just..." I looked between them, noting their sudden discomfort. "I can't remember anything before I was thirteen. Don't you think that's strange?"

My mother exchanged a quick glance with Daniel before answering. "The doctor said memory loss is normal after head trauma. It will come back when it's ready, sweetheart."

But something in her eyes made me wonder if she was telling me everything.