One Tuesday morning, in late September, Truce Avidon returned from a business trip in Holland, and went straight to his company's headquarters in Boston. He used his private entrance that led him into his office.
As he settled into his dark, leather chair behind his desk, he closed his eyes, sighing heavily. Chen, his personal assistant and right hand man, whom he hired right after college, walked in, with a cup of Longjing Jasmine tea, and cleared his throat discreetly to alert the man of his presence.
"What is it, Chen?" He asked, with his eyes still closed.
"Sir, you have a board meeting in five minutes." He said with a crisp and efficient voice. Truce nodded opening his eyes; his expression was unreadable. Long, dark hair pooled on his shoulders.
They strolled out of the office into an empty, sparkling hallway, that led to an elevator. They entered with a busied silence, and remained that way till it dinged open again. Chen scurried past him to get his seat prepared before he stepped in.
"Begin." He announced in a low voice, as he walked up to his seat at the end of the long, conference table.
The room was darkened, the only light came from the smart projector in the room. On the table, there were biscuits, shortcakes and steaming cups of tea, arranged to serve each one of the board members.
He was known as a man of little words, no pleasantries, no patience for small talk. His focus was always on the bottom line, which added to his mysteriousness.
Minutes after he settled into his high-backed chair, a strange voice echoed in his mind, distracting him entirely from the meeting. As the voice morphed into a continuous nag, his face turned into a fierce scowl. He snapped the innocent ball pen in his fingers in anger.
The people in the room shivered, and jumped for fear, thinking he was angry about their battery proposal for Vitalis (the logistics and transportation department.) One elderly lady in well fitted tux, fainted on the spot. He sneered coldly, stood up and stormed out of the boardroom, with Chen at his heels, wondering what happened.
Truce burst into his office, and immediately delved into the sea of paperwork on his desk. The nagging stopped eventually, and he didn't lift up his head from his desk for hours. When he did, it was well into the night. He stared at the cold cup of tea on his desk, and pushed a red button.
Chen, who had been in a frantic state all day, saw the red light flash on his desk, and wobbled frantically out of his seat, into his office.
"Sir." he said nervously.
"Get me a new cup." He ordered coolly, pointing at a cold cup of tea on his desk.
"Yes sir." Chen replied curtly, took the cup and left the room.
As soon as he closed the door, the strange voice emerged again. Who was this intruder in his space?
He closed his eyes to calm his boiling rage, and listened to the voice. It sounded uncertain at first; but when it noticed that it had his attention, it grew louder, and more persistent.
"I ask with a helpless heart.
I seek you with a curious soul.
I will knock with a brave spirit, and your mysteries will be mine to behold."
His eyes snapped open, with bright lights emanating from it. An image of a lady, sitting in a mediation pose appeared before him. Her dark hair obscured his view of her face.
He narrowed his eyes, and searched her past for a name. Then he saw it, and his pale blue eyes returned. Not everyone knew this mantra, except those who had come in contact with his healing powers, and only a few were still alive.
Ever since the death of his wife, he closed himself up from the outside world. The only people that had access to him, only came around for business. And he liked it that way. No one knew he was still mourning her.
Chen returned, with a steaming China teacup in his hand, when he saw Truce's face, he swallowed.
Whatever it was, it didn't look good.
He dropped the tea, and awaited further instructions. Truce relaxed calmly into his chair, looking like he was thinking hard about a business idea.
"Chen? Run a background check on two persons for me. Anna Gabadon and Liam Stone." He sounded like a cat, waiting patiently for his prey to step into his trap as he picked the ceramic to sip from it.
"Right away sir." Chen replied, and hurriedly left the room. He knew better than to ask why.
As he mused about the strange lady, a faint spark of recognition lit within him, a memory long buried.
Chen returned hours later, with a dossier, and handed it to Mister Truce. He scanned the pages, his expression remained unreadable.
She was twenty four, lived in Boston all her life. Parents were separated at birth, her father Paul Gabadon, died a few years later. And her mother, Helen D. Gabadon, wasn't present in her life. She taught at a prestigious school...
Flipping pages, there wasn't anything remarkable about her, until his eyes landed on her diagnosis. Now that was interesting.
He opened the other file, apparently, the doctor who once worked for him, was now hiding in Boston, as a therapist. A gentle smile caressed his handsome face. He should've been wiser than that.
"Chen, do I have an empty slot on my schedule this week?" He asked coldly.
"Yes sir. Thursday night is free."
He nodded, and waved dismissively at Chen. Then he listened to the voice again. There was something about it. Flashes of Miriam ran across his mind, but he didn't give in to them. Miriam was dead, but why did this woman remind him of her?
He beckoned on his invisible messenger, who appeared from thin air, in bright shining light, then commanded it to set an appointment with her. It bowed, and disappeared immediately. He couldn't wait to see who this woman was, and why she reminded him of Miriam.