Morning arrived. The sun shone brightly after a night of heavy rain. Water still trickled from the broad leaves, dripping onto the grass covering the wet ground. The air was still cool, with a light mist clinging low over the green lawn in the side garden between the funeral home and a private house. The window in Dawn's second-floor room remained firmly shut, keeping the chill out. But the chirping of birds, permanent residents of one of the large willow trees beside the house, was clearly audible inside the room.
Dawn opened his eyes. He'd slept soundly, unaware that it was already light. He opened his eyes wide, frowning at what was before him. He was clutching someone's clothes, the person holding him with one arm under him.
Dawn's eyes widened. What had happened? He quickly pushed the person away, pushing too hard and sending Caleb, who was lying near the edge of the bed, tumbling to the floor.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, his large body sliding off the bed.
"Aww!"
Dawn sat up quickly, his eyes wide as he took in the man in his bed.
"Wh-what are you doing? Why are you sleeping in my bed?"
Caleb groaned; even though the bed wasn't very high, the fall still hurt. He got up slowly and sat, looking at Dawn, who was staring at him with wide eyes.
"What did you do? After cuddling me all night, you just throw me off?" Caleb exclaimed.
Dawn stammered. He looked at his hands. Had he really been hugging him?
"That's… not true. Why would I hug you?"
Holding his aching lower back, Caleb pushed himself off the floor, then gingerly sat on the sofa. His bones felt bruised, his muscles cramped from his overnight sleeping position. He was lucky to have slept at all, but it left him stiff and sore.
"Ugh, my back," Caleb groaned, his eyes wide as he looked at Dawn.
"You're responsible for this! It's because you slept hugging me all night. Ouch, I think I need a massage."
Dawn stared at the detective, trying to remember last night. He vaguely recalled hugging someone in his bed. But it should have been Emily, not him.
"You…"
Caleb saw the confused look on Dawn's face and fought back a laugh.
"Anyway, you're responsible. You hear me? Take responsibility!"
...
Caleb opened his SUV's door. Time to go to work. He glanced back at the house where he'd slept. Instead of a good night's rest, he'd gotten a sore back. Groaning, he climbed into his car, started the engine, and prepared to leave the funeral home complex. As he drove his black car away, he kept glancing up at the second-floor window of Dawn's room.
Emily placed a bowl of hot porridge in front of Caleb for breakfast. The air was still chilly from the overnight rain, and although the sun was shining brightly, the funeral home complex felt peaceful and calm that morning.
"When Dawn was eight, he was kidnapped. The perpetrator broke into the house, killed several servants, and took Dawn. It was raining heavily, and Dawn's parents were out of town. That's when it happened. That night, besides almost being kidnapped, Dawn also lost his parents. According to the police who rescued him, Dawn was tied up and put in the trunk of a car. The chase lasted almost a half day before the police stopped the perpetrator. Since then, Dawn has been severely traumatized. For weeks, he didn't speak a word. And when he finally did, the first thing he asked Pops was why his mom and dad didn't come home to say goodbye. Poor kid. We couldn't do much except try to help him forget it, but we couldn't," Emily said.
Caleb, who was about to put a spoonful of porridge in his mouth, stopped, looking at Emily for a long time.
"Eight years old… that means, about twelve years ago?" Caleb asked.
Emily nodded.
"Yeah, that long. That's why Dawn always sleeps with one or two lights on every night; he's afraid of the dark. And when it rains, it's fine if it's just a light shower, but if there's thunder and lightning, I usually stay with him. He gets panicky and shaky. Sometimes, his asthma acts up, and he has trouble breathing. Once, we were all so busy and didn't realize Dawn's trauma, and he passed out. We had to take him to the hospital. That kid… carries so much trauma. I don't know how to help him."
Caleb pursed his lips, driving his SUV down a small road strewn with fallen, colorful leaves and flowers. Last night, in the dark, he hadn't seen any of this, but the little road leading to the Black Orchid funeral house complex was surprisingly beautiful. He rolled down his window, letting his hand catch the falling petals and leaves. The fresh air, the pleasant scent—it was lovely. This place wasn't so bad after all, Caleb thought, a smile spreading across his face.
"He..."
...
The air was still cold when the funeral house was already bustling. From a distance, Dawn, standing in the front yard, saw Adel, her father, and her younger sibling arrive. Today, Mrs. Mira, Adel's mother, would be cremated. The complex didn't have cremation facilities, so they'd be taking her to the other side of town for the cremation and scattering of her ashes at sea. The young girl glanced at Dawn, offering a weak smile despite the swollen eyes from crying.
Dawn looked at her, then at the funeral house building, towards the cold storage room. There it was—Dawn could see black smoke gathering near a window. Without a second thought, still in his casual clothes, Dawn hurried towards it.
Meanwhile, in Pops' office, Lena stood before him.
"What do you mean you can't get one? I know your funeral home isn't busy. You guys get too many excuses. I helped you with that whole family accident last month, can't you just help me with this one?" Pops was on the phone, his voice tight with frustration. Lena watched him. They were having trouble getting the funeral house to send a hearse to collect a body from the cold room because of a landslide that had blocked the road and the shortage of staff. It was driving Pops crazy.
Emily entered. She glanced at Lena, who looked up.
"So?"
Lena shrugged.
Lena shrugged.
"No information yet."
Emily pursed her lips. Pops looked agitated.
"Then there's no help next time, let's just pretend we don't know each other," Pops snapped angrily. The caller seemed to be trying to persuade Pops. Emily approached, raising an eyebrow questioningly at her father. Pops pursed his lips even tighter, increasingly annoyed by the response from the person on the phone.
"Send your man here, by this evening at the latest. The family is about to hold the burial and we can't hold them back any longer."
Pops, furious, slammed the phone down. He breathed heavily, like a bull.
"Pops, Detective Caleb asked us to hold the body for at least three days. I already agreed. Should we just keep the body here for now?" Emily asked.
Pops looked at Emily, then out the window. Emily knew where her father's gaze was directed – Dawn's room.
"Dawn's been busy lately, I don't think he'll have time to see the body before it goes back to the police morgue."
Emily's statement made Lena stare at her wide-eyed, seemingly surprised.
"Em, you mean, there's a possibility, if it's really that person…" Lena trailed off, Emily nodded. She'd forgotten she hadn't told Lena about this yet.
"Yeah, a possibility like that, but if Detective Caleb can't find a motive by tomorrow, the family will accept it as an accident or suicide. That's why they don't mind us delaying the burial."
Lena nodded slowly.
"Oh, I see."