The Sum of All Our Fears

I didn’t know what to do, this was just a total shock. I guess we could call it this way, I was like, it’s probably true, but deep down I just couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. She probably died. But not an absolute fact yet for my reason. This morning, I was left speechless, after I got the news revealed. As Heather briefed me further about this messy situation, I didn’t feel like having any coffee, tea or whatever breakfast. Even, today, all notions of time have been lost, a new day started, and everything seems to be a new planet once life has been all erased. It was, I don’t know, I was propelled in a similar universe, in a similar situation, but I was just not realising this. After I said to Heather that we had to go, I went upstairs, Claire followed me, and I went to the bedroom. I realised that I had a similar reaction to when I was a kid. I guess the hardest was yet to come, and, well, for some reason I was thinking about what to do today after this. But first, let’s get dressed up. It was a simple thing that I had to do, just pick up some clothes, something like I do every day, it’s just something simple, but against the odds it appeared to me as another big problem I had to deal with now, as I had no idea on what to wear. I kind of found myself in a similar situation when I found Claire in that hotel room in Kleber, perhaps today would be a day when I should focus on one thing at a time and go through what I’m going through. And see what I could do after.

Yet, as we arrived in the bedroom before I opened the luggage that I left next to my side of the bed and made my choice, Claire spontaneously hugged me. We didn’t speak to one another, even in there I was unable to cry; I was just shocked, as if I were trying to gather the shards of glass shattered all around the floor barehand. She hugged me tight, like, I could feel, even though she wasn’t saying any word, her entire support in this, as she was as affected as I was. I believe that it’d be appropriate to say that today was reaching the pinnacle, the apotheosis. Brutally opening my eyes to the fact that life can also end one day, it starts slowly to pass from concept to reality, now, it was just, a flow of thoughts, mixed up with genuine incomprehension on a bed of astonishment, in a negative way. After our big, extended hug, I guess, because, whilst in her arms I just couldn’t take my thoughts away from the breaking news, I just sat down on the bed, having thrown my clothes on the bed, to get dressed up later. Still, no words, just a big silence, just, nothing. It didn’t help at all, but at least, she was there, and I realised that I believe that it would be tougher if I’d faced it all alone.

After a swift moment of togetherness, she stood up and pronounced the first few words, okay, now you have to go, sweetheart, and I just nodded. She went to her suitcase, whilst I grabbed into mine a navy-blue top, a dark pullover, some blue jeans, white socks and the boots that I had yesterday. Slowly, I removed my pyjamas changed myself, and quickly looked at the sparkling weather outside through the window. I already saw corpses, I already saw dead people, but having my twin sister dead is like a preview of what is yet to come for me. I was feeling like I wouldn’t be able to deal with multiple problems today, so let’s minimise the impact. As I was dressing up, I looked at her:

“Are you going to be okay, talking back with Romeka about what happened in Paris?”

“I believe that I won’t have any other choice,” she whispered. “After all they need my statement against Joris. And I feel like I’m one of the only survivors from that mess, they never had anyone.”

“Well, we’ve got plenty of rooms in this mansion, so you’re going to be able to keep some privacy over what will be said.”

“I hope so. And you? I’m sorry, I wish I could have come to help and support you.”

“I guess… I believe that’ll do,” I was laconic.

I changed myself, and, now more than ever, time to face the truth. Claire opened the door and passed first, and I was just following her, like a zombie, deeply hit by the violent impact I received. As we headed downstairs, now that the weather remained sarcastically sunny outside and it seemed to be a beautiful day ahead, Heather looked at me we were downstairs with my girlfriend, and she said, looking at me with her serious air, are you ready to go? and I just nodded. I inhaled, exhaled, and pronounced a short, yeah, let’s go… Time to take off. Right before we left, Claire gave me her black raincoat.

I stepped outside the mansion, and the warm sunlight greeted my face. So typical of this Mediterranean weather that I used to enjoy in some sort of abandoned life, far in the distant past. Heather parked her sleek black car, which she probably rented on the princess’ bill for the investigation. But I could see that, despite the misery, she was kind of treating herself with a luxurious sedan, its polished exterior and tinted windows reflecting the bright rays of the sun. Its leather seats looked inviting, and the faint scent of a new car filled the air. On the other hand, she isn’t responsible for anything. Anyway, as she unlocked the car with a remote controller on her keys, I went to the passenger side and slid into the seat, I fastened my seatbelt with a mechanical click. Heather sat beside me; her eyes filled with concern:

“Charlotte, how are you feeling?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with empathy.

As I normally do, I responded with a hint of sarcasm, my emotions still raw from the news. I don’t know if that was the right question to ask today.

“I’m not too bad today, to be honest, living the dream, you know, I can’t complain. Getting ready to get an extra thirty million. My sister passed away, but hey, life still goes on, right?”

“Yeah. I just wanted to show empathy.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ll believe me if I tell you that today is the wrong day for showing empathy.”

“You’re in shock, I hear you.”

My attempt at humour fell flat, but it was the only defence mechanism I had now. Heather nodded, understanding the weight of my words, and started the engine. The car roared to life, a gentle hum that filled the silence between us. We exchanged glances, a mix of sadness and apprehension lingering in the air. I believe she could forgive me today if I am being extremely sarcastic. Just as we were about to pull out of the road, my phone suddenly rang, breaking the silence. I retrieved my phone, in my pocket, and saw my mother’s name flashing on the screen. The realisation hit me like a tidal wave. Oh, here it goes.

With a trembling hand, I answered the call, bringing the phone to my ear.

“Charlotte speaking,” I answered formally, trying to maintain a composed tone, my voice puzzled with bitterness.

“Hey...” My mother’s voice quivered with tears, as a result of the shock.

“I believe you learned about the news...”

“It’s unbelievable! My daughter! Gone!” Her grief echoed through the phone.

“As a matter of fact.”

“Oh my god! How is that possible!”

“Some prick poisoned your daughter. I’m heading to the morgue; I’ll see her now.”

“Yes, tell me it’s not true!”

“Whatever you want to hear, Mum.”

“Charlotte, why? Why are you being so cold with me? I thought...” Her voice trailed off, a hint of hurt seeping through.

“It’s not the time to think, Mum, as far as I’m concerned. It’s the time to find evidence and to find who put my sister in a coffin.”

“I thought... I thought we would find a truce, you and me, after what happened when you saved my life!”

“The truce was agreed. Moreover, you know I have never been good at expressing emotions.”

“This guy, Antoine Beauregard, he told me you were working with Interpol?”

“Yeah. Can I call you later? We’re gonna pass under a tunnel!” I hurriedly interjected, trying to divert the conversation.

“In Saint-Clement?” She sounded sceptical, seeking reassurance, as she knows the place.

“Yeah, they made something new. Catch you later,” I concluded abruptly, hanging up the phone.

As the call ended, I felt heavy in my chest. The truth remained in the unspoken words, the fractures in our relationship too deep to bridge in a single conversation, even if we try to mend the broken pieces. The tunnel I mentioned was a mere distraction, an excuse to escape the emotional turmoil and an excuse because I haven’t been good at showing empathy. Heather was surprised by the way I reacted, determined to find justice for my sister, even if it meant confronting the painful truths that lay ahead.

Lapeyronie hospital. As we made the same way yesterday on the opposite side, now we were doing it the other way around. As a surprise, Heather seemed confident driving in here, it was like she had done it her entire life. We again passed along the vineyard of the Valley of la Lironde, behind the commercial centre of Saint-Clement-de-Rivière. She grabbed her Ray-bans when she was driving as the sun was already shining. Yeah, another beautiful day. Just another one in a beautiful nightmare. We turned on the driveway heading straight to Montpellier, towards the hospital area of the city, and traffic was light. Then I realised that maybe Mum was looking for comfort. Perhaps I shouldn’t have answered like this, but I don’t know how to comfort someone whom I was at war with a few days ago.

After the vineyards, we drove along the commercial centre and the neighbourhood of La Valsière next to it. But headed straight to Occitanie. And as we arrived, a tram was crowded as it left the station. We kept driving along the road as we headed to the same place as we were yesterday. The sun may be shining, and life may still thrive around, with the thousands of stories it may have to tell, but it was still worse than when Earth was painfully born in my mind. A similar chaos. In a different setting of the day, obviously.

She parked the car in the parking space, that was already crowded. I didn’t realise how expensive it was when I checked the price to park the car, even for two hours, but in a way, the problem that this city has always had was where to park the car, and considering the number of people working in there, then it makes sense that there is no space to park a car after all. As we slalomed to find a space, it took us nearly ten minutes to find an available place, and as we found it, we hopped out of the car. Yikes, back to the hospital, but Heather told me that this time, instead of going to the reception room, we would go straight downstairs, as she was already there. The morgue is on the -1 level, as she said she knows because she’s back from there already.

We headed to the hospital and, just like yesterday, the hallway where I passed through when I was to visit her became suddenly alive but disconnected. Heather was speaking to me, but I didn’t listen, it seemed all about noise coming out of her mouth. She gave me advice on how to pass through, but I just heard a jibber-jabber that seemed to not make any sense. She managed to get my attention when she said that Clarisse would be behind a glass I wouldn’t be able to approach the body, as she needs to pass through an autopsy before we proceed to the burial. She managed to have this dealt with in an emergency, she explained that now, it’s all about the prosecutor of the court of Montpellier, who, she said, as she met him yesterday, was a genuine dickhead. She managed to have the autopsy carried out at least this afternoon, fast-tracking this process.

Anyway, we entered the building. It was still the same, as alive as it was yesterday, where were rushing doctors and patients in critical conditions, and everything seemed to be like another normal day, my sister’s death was just a droplet of water in the ocean. All I could notice when we entered was this weird green paint on the walls, this very pale green that even smelled like death, in hospitals, all around. In the grand scheme of things, we’re doomed. We walked towards a corridor that seemed crowded, a corridor leading to lifts that were leading upstairs or downstairs towards the operation rooms. But instead of the lifts, as we were halfway, we turned on the left, walking towards another corridor that seemed far less welcoming, this one leading to the morgue downstairs, after a small stair concealed behind another door. It seemed like a labyrinth, making me realise how unique this situation was today, it’s a period like nonesuch and I wouldn’t live that anymore. Or at least, until the next person I’ll bury.

And, after the stairs, we ended up in a service corridor downstairs, which seemed to be where countless ambulances were parked. We were outside the building, and all those panels kept on indicating the morgue. I was trying to catch the direction to go but I was unable to remember, as if my brain got disconnected, perhaps I could find the way myself but right now, I was just on autopilot. And, at some point, as we reached a place where first aiders and ambulances seemed to be in their break, various guys smoking their cigarettes and seemed exhausted by a busy morning. We turned on the left at some point. Here we were, the morgue.

The room was modest, devoid of any adornments on its walls, not even a medical or police poster. It felt like an unusual extension of the hospital, distance from the main building, a detached service. There was a small reception area with a dividing desk at its centre. Seated behind the desk was a young woman, her age suggesting she was in her thirties. Her tied brown hair framed her brown eyes, and she wore a pristine white blouse, likely indicating she was a nurse. As we entered, Heather approached the office and spoke with the young woman in French presenting her police badge, requesting access to my sister. I noticed a door positioned just behind the office, with a movable plate granting entry to what appeared to be the mortuary chambers, where bodies were held for examination. Heather explained that she was there to facilitate my viewing of my sister, whose body was scheduled for an autopsy. It was the nurse’s response that struck me, as she spoke of my sister with utmost respect, stating:

“Yes, Madam Kominsky should be prepared soon and can be seen in Room 4, directly in front of you. Let me inform my colleague to make the necessary arrangements; it won’t take long.”

My fixation on what lay behind the door consumed my thoughts entirely. However, my trance was interrupted by the young woman, who observed my visible distress and offered me a glass of water, attempting to gain my attention with multiple calls. Politely, I declined her offer and remained seated, my gaze fixated on the door, lost in an obsessive loop, trying to process the chaotic whirlwind of emotions. So, we sat there in silence, unsure of what else to do at that moment. Yet, as we settled into our seats, following Heather without raising any questions, a sudden urge overcame me, and I finally broke the silence with a query that had been weighing on my mind.

“I assume you already saw her, right?” I asked, my voice filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

“Yeah, I did,” Heather replied, her tone carrying a sense of sombreness.

“What about my dad? Why do you think he refused to come?” I inquired, seeking some understanding amidst the pain.

“It’s a normal reaction, darling. You lost your sister, but he lost his daughter. Imagine how painful this must be for him. He must be devastated. He said he will come once he’s emotionally ready to face being closer to her.”

“She’s beautiful. And she looks peaceful as if she’s sleeping. It hasn’t been long since she passed, so her appearance hasn’t been affected much. It’s almost like nothing bad happened like she didn’t suffer. I’m sure you’ll see it when you look at her. She was at peace in her sleep.”

“All right then...”

Surprisingly, we were the only ones to wait here today, at least at this hour. I don’t know how many bodies they have in their fridges for now, but it seemed like I was the only one facing my fair share of shit today. The nurse we met was typing something on her laptop, and I realised that my mind may be everywhere usually, today it was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I removed my coat, folded it left it on my legs, and was nervously waiting. The noise of the first aiders and various ambulance staff outside taking their break was very mild as if everyone was paying attention to me today.

My phone rested in my hand, while my mind felt strangely empty. Time seemed to pass sluggishly, yet my thoughts raced ahead, already attempting to forge a plan. I pondered what Clarisse would have wanted for her farewell, would she prefer a church ceremony or a civil funeral? Or perhaps she had wished for no funeral at all? The latter seemed improbable since both our parents would undoubtedly want to bid her farewell. Clarisse shared my scepticism towards religious ceremonies, so a priest’s words would likely not resonate with her. However, the logistics remained a challenge. When could we arrange the funeral, considering our mother’s current health challenges in Paris? Travelling to Montpellier would undoubtedly prove burdensome for her. Perhaps a civil gathering would be more feasible. I realised I would need to contact Clarisse’s friends and acquaint them with the devastating news. The situation was a chaotic mess, and my thoughts then turned to what would come next. Clarisse possessed a considerable amount of wealth, what would become of it? Who would inherit and manage her assets? It was exasperating, these questions that begged for answers, yet it was too soon to delve into such matters. Time ticked away, and we would be forced to confront these issues sooner than we might wish.

After this moment of thought, as Heather told me what we’ll have to do after the autopsy is done, someone opened the door through which I was dreading to head. A tall guy, also dressed up as a nurse, with short hair, I couldn’t see his eyes because of the dimness of the room, finally came and remained behind the door. And he looked at us:

“Miss Kominsky is ready, ladies.”

“Okay, darling… You’re ready?” Heather looked at me.

“Yeah. Let’s get this over with,” I softly pronounced.

So, here we are now.

We both stood up, and Heather passed first. As I stood up, though, I was suddenly feeling febrile, a bit as if my legs were shaking even though they were not. I just thought that she’s probably seeing everything from where she is now, Clarisse. She’s just probably simply a spirit wandering. I don’t know how she feels, she’s probably scared, she’s probably relieved, but that idea didn’t make me feel even more confident. Lowering my head, carefully looking at where I was walking, I was exactly feeling like a tightrope walker between two buildings above a two-hundred-metre void. I just felt like, it was right ahead.

I swiftly looked at this relatively narrow corridor, where multiple doors on both sides were leading God knows where, still that same greenish colour on those walls. They were all closed, except the one where we were heading, right before my eyes. This room was poorly lit, with dimmed lights almost incompatible with the sparkling cold lights illuminating the corridor. Just an observatory post, where I could simply see a plant from afar, a watching bay, and that big window. Head down, we entered that small room.

As I lifted my gaze, I confronted a sight that seemed to encapsulate the epitome of devastation. It was a scenario I never fathomed I would witness in my lifetime, a grim aftermath resulting from the colossal asteroid that had struck our planet. These were mere echoes of celestial impacts this time. The initial response that surged through me resembled the feeling of the earth quaking beneath my feet. It was as if the plane had abruptly halted its free fall and collided with the ground. But this... this moment revealed something far more profound. I finally laid eyes on my sister, and an instinctive gasp escaped me as I encountered the shocking truth. In that instant, I understood, in perhaps the cruellest way, the fate that had befallen her. She lay in the centre of a dimly lit room, with a powerful beam casting an eerie glow upon the table where her body rested, obscuring the surrounding space in a hazy blur. My vision was fixated solely on her lifeless form. And that was enough. My beloved sister had departed from this world. Only her face, her neck, remained visible to me, while the rest lay concealed beneath a pristine white sheet.

Her countenance had already undergone a haunting transformation, her face and neck now displaying an eerie pallor reminiscent of a spectre etched upon a macabre canvas. Drawn by an inexplicable force, I mustered the courage to venture closer, only to be engulfed by a tidal wave of anguish that threatened to consume me whole. The indelible marks left by the unyielding respirator clung to her visage, a stark reminder of the desperate battle waged to prolong her fragile existence. In death’s cold embrace, her once radiant eyes had lost their lustre, replaced by an unsettling emptiness that sent shivers down my spine. Strands of dampened hair clung mournfully to her forehead as if drenched by the tears of a relentless tempest. The feeble support beneath her head seemed but a feeble barrier against the weight of the tragedy that had befallen her. Yet, it was the haunting imprint of the respirator, a visible testament to her struggle, that pierced my heart with an excruciating surge of sorrow.

Within the desolate confines of that room, my sister’s lifeless form lay upon the cold autopsy table, a sombre tableau of unspeakable sorrow. The very air seemed to resonate with an eerie stillness as if mourning the untimely departure of a cherished soul. The room itself echoed the abyss, devoid of warmth or solace, lit only by a solitary stark white lamp that cast an ethereal glow upon her motionless figure. Shadows danced and swayed upon the walls, casting fleeting glimpses into the haunting secrets held within the refrigeration units that lined the backdrop. The metallic doors stood sentinel, concealing the untold stories of departed souls, their chilling presence a constant reminder of the transient nature of existence. Through the grimy windowpane, I bore witness to this haunting scene, the illuminated silhouette of my sister serving as a poignant reminder of the irrevocable loss that now gripped our lives.

This was no mere surreal encounter; it was a malevolent nightmare that defied all comprehension, plunging me into the depths of despair. My heart pounded relentlessly within my chest, its rhythmic cadence a symphony of grief and guilt. How could this be the cruel denouement to her once vibrant existence? Her dreams and aspirations were extinguished in the blink of an eye. The weight of it all bore down upon me with suffocating force, threatening to crush my very spirit. She was gone, my twin sister, torn abruptly from the world and consigned to the realm of memory. The magnitude of the loss crashed upon me like a tempestuous wave, engulfing me in a torrent of emotions. Like she used to claim herself, she always said she was a supermassive star. Supermassive stars are beautiful… but they don’t live long. I feel like I just witnessed a terrible supernova.

As I stood transfixed by her lifeless form, a maelstrom of rage, sorrow, and despair raged within me. The injustice of it all ignited an inferno of fury, compelling me to rail against a world that could allow such tragedy. I longed to scream, to shatter the confines of that desolate room, to unleash my anguish upon the universe. The walls trembled, their solidity quivering beneath the weight of my turmoil, while the air thickened with unspoken words and shattered dreams. It felt as though the very fabric of existence had been torn asunder as if the cosmos itself mourned the untimely departure of a cherished soul. My heart started racing, my muscles were suddenly full of bad energy that threatened to turn the place into ashes, and my soul was just full of memories and regrets. I should have gone to the station. She was just eighteen. She had her entire life to live.

In that poignant moment, I became a witness to the unravelling of my world, my heartbeat reverberating in unison with the cacophony of thoughts that crashed upon the shores of my mind. The futility of my efforts to save her gnawed relentlessly at my core, leaving me feeling utterly powerless and broken. How had it come to this? How had I failed so utterly? The ensuing silence enveloped me, an overwhelming void punctuated only by the resolute yet gentle voice of Heather, her words piercing through the abyss of my anguish and offering a flicker of solace in the darkness.