The Silence That Lingers
The warm afternoon sun streamed through the large windows of Caitlyn’s clinic, filling the waiting area with a soft, golden light. Though Caitlyn wasn’t scheduled to work today, she had decided to come in to meet the newly hired doctors and veterinary assistants. The clinic had grown busier over the past few months, the influx of clients pushing Caitlyn to expand her team.
She stood near the reception desk, her clipboard tucked under one arm, talking with Maddie, one of the newly hired veterinarians. Maddie, a bright-eyed doctor in her late twenties, nodded attentively as Caitlyn explained the clinic’s growing needs.
“We’ve been seeing more clients than ever,” Caitlyn said, her tone professional but warm. “That’s why we’ve brought you and the others on board. I want to make sure our clients—and their pets—are getting the best care possible. It’s a lot, but I’m confident you’ll adjust quickly.”
Maddie smiled. “Thank you, Dr. Kiramman. I’m excited to be here and help out. The team seems great.”
Caitlyn returned the smile. “They are. And if you need anything or have questions, don’t hesitate to ask. My door’s always open.”
As the conversation wrapped up, Caitlyn glanced at her watch. “Alright, I should let you get settled. I’ll leave you to it.”
She handed Maddie a set of orientation materials before turning toward the door. Just as she was about to step outside, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw her dad’s name on the screen.
“Hey, Dad,” Caitlyn greeted, her voice light.
But as the conversation progressed, her expression shifted. Her brows furrowed, her lips parted slightly in shock, and her grip on the phone tightened. Whatever her dad was saying, it left her rooted to the spot, her free hand instinctively clutching the edge of the reception counter.
Then, after a moment of silence, she nodded quickly, her tone firm but trembling. “I’m on my way.”
Ending the call, Caitlyn stood frozen for a second, her mind racing. Without another word, she grabbed her bag and pushed through the clinic’s front doors, her steps brisk and heavy.
The gym was quiet in the late afternoon, the faint hum of music from the speakers blending with the sound of weights clinking and muffled conversations. Vi stood in front of her locker, freshly showered, her damp pink hair tousled as she grabbed her phone. She unlocked it, intending to message Caitlyn about their plans later, when a notification caught her eye—2 missed calls from Caitlyn.
Vi furrowed her brows, tapping the notification to call her back. The phone rang a few times, each ring making her chest tighten slightly. Finally, Caitlyn picked up.
“Hey, Cupcake,” Vi greeted, her usual teasing grin in place. “Miss me already?”
The silence on the other end made Vi’s grin falter. “Cait?” she asked, her tone shifting to concern.
When Caitlyn finally spoke, her voice trembled. “Vi…” she started, her tone barely above a whisper. Then, with a shaky breath, she said, “Mom’s gone.”
Vi froze, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut. Her heart dropped, and her grip on the phone tightened. “Cait,” she said softly but urgently, “where are you? Tell me where you are, and I’ll come to you.”
There was a pause, followed by Caitlyn giving her location in a quiet, almost detached tone. Vi didn’t waste another second.
“Hang tight, I’m on my way,” she said firmly before ending the call.
Stuffing her phone into her pocket, Vi grabbed her things from the locker, barely bothering to close it as she sprinted out of the gym. She reached her truck in record time, throwing her bag onto the passenger seat and starting the engine. Her mind raced as she sped out of the parking lot, her focus singular: get to Caitlyn.
Vi burst through the hospital doors, her boots echoing loudly against the polished floors. She scanned the hallways, her chest tight as she searched for Caitlyn. Her eyes landed on Caitlyn down the corridor, standing stiffly against the wall near a doctor. Her posture was tense, her face pale and streaked with dried tears.
Caitlyn's father stood a few feet away, his shoulders hunched as he leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the floor. His trembling hands clutched a handkerchief, and his red-rimmed eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
“Cait,” Vi called out softly, her voice carrying over the low murmur of the hospital hallway.
Caitlyn turned at the sound of her name, her expression hollow and lost. As soon as Vi reached her, she pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping her arms around Caitlyn and holding her close. Vi kissed the top of Caitlyn’s head, her own heart breaking at the sight of Cait so vulnerable.
Caitlyn hugged her back, her grip firm as though trying to steady herself. When they finally pulled apart, Vi looked into Caitlyn’s eyes and saw disbelief. The tears had stopped, but the weight of grief was etched into every line of her face.
“Dad said she was dizzy and had a headache this morning but thought it was just one of her vertigo episodes,” Caitlyn began, her voice quiet and strained. “but she collapsed in the house this afternoon. They tried to get her to the hospital, but they… they couldn’t revive her.” Her voice cracked as she added, “The doctor said it was an aneurysm.”
Vi’s throat tightened, and she immediately pulled Caitlyn back into another hug. “I’m so sorry, Cait,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Caitlyn’s arms fell loosely around Vi this time, her energy drained. “I… I have to arrange the funeral,” she said shakily. “Inform people, take care of her remains—there’s so much to—”
“Sshh,” Vi interrupted gently, pulling back to cup Caitlyn’s face in her hands. “Take a minute. You don’t have to do this all alone. I’ll help you. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Caitlyn nodded faintly, her eyes closing for a moment as she leaned into Vi’s touch. She didn’t say anything more, letting Vi’s presence steady her amidst the overwhelming weight of loss.
The large hall was filled with soft murmurs and low voices, a mixture of guests offering condolences and the faint clinking of glasses from a small buffet at the back. The air carried the muted elegance befitting a wake for the wealthy, where emotions were masked behind polished manners and quiet words. Caitlyn stood near the casket, dressed in a simple but elegant black dress, her posture straight but her expression distant. She nodded politely at guests as they spoke to her, her responses automatic, devoid of genuine engagement.
Jayce, Mel, and Viktor entered the hall, their presence subdued. Vi greeted them near the doorway, her usual casual stance replaced by a quiet, protective demeanor. She was dressed neatly in a black button-up shirt and slacks, her hands resting loosely in her pockets.
Jayce looked toward Caitlyn, his brows furrowing in concern. “How’s she holding up?”
Vi’s gaze followed his, settling on Caitlyn as she exchanged polite words with another guest. Her eyes, though composed, held a hollow look, as if she wasn’t absorbing anything being said to her. “She’s keeping it together,” Vi replied softly. “Too much, if you ask me. She hasn’t cried since the hospital.”
Mel tilted her head, her voice tinged with worry. “She hasn’t?”
Vi shook her head. “No. She’s been… doing everything. Arranging the wake, the funeral, making sure everyone else is taken care of. She hasn’t stopped, not once. And her dad…” Vi trailed off, her gaze shifting to the corner of the room.
Caitlyn’s father sat alone on a bench, his shoulders hunched as he stared at the casket. Occasionally, he would stand, his hand brushing over the edge of the polished wood or the framed photograph of Cassandra resting atop it. He hadn’t spoken much to anyone, not even Caitlyn, retreating into his own grief.
Vi sighed deeply. “He’s not helping. He’s just… there. Sitting, staring, not talking to anyone.”
Jayce frowned, his jaw tightening. “That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not,” Vi murmured, her tone laced with frustration. “She’s carrying all of this on her own.”
Determined, the group walked over to Caitlyn. Mel was the first to reach her, wrapping her in a warm hug. “I’m so sorry, Cait,” she whispered, her voice heartfelt.
Caitlyn returned the embrace briefly, offering a faint smile. “Thanks, Mel.”
Jayce followed, pulling Caitlyn into a tight hug. “It’s going to be okay, Sprout,” he said softly, his voice both comforting and firm. “We’re here for you.”
Viktor, ever reserved, patted Caitlyn’s shoulder, his words succinct but sincere. “My condolences, Caitlyn.”
Caitlyn nodded, her polite smile barely wavering. “Thank you, all of you.”
Vi stood slightly apart, watching Caitlyn as she acknowledged her friends’ support. She could see through the veneer Caitlyn was putting up, the effort it took to maintain her composure. Vi sighed and sat down on the edge of the bench near Caitlyn’s dad, her gaze flicking to the untouched cup of coffee beside him. She hesitated briefly before standing up again and fetching two fresh cups from the table. She returned and set one down next to him.
He didn’t move, his eyes still fixed on the photo of Cassandra. Vi didn’t look at him directly, instead focusing on the same picture, her voice low and measured. “Cait looks a lot like her.”
A long silence stretched between them before Caitlyn’s father finally spoke, his voice rough and quiet. “Yes. Caitlyn is like the young version of Cassandra. The way she carries herself, the way she doesn’t back down from anything. Cassandra, she is... was... always independent, always going after what she wanted. It’s one of the things I loved most about her.” His lips twisted into a bitter chuckle. “And one of the things that’s given me so many headaches with Caitlyn.”
Vi’s mouth twitched into a faint smile. “Sounds about right.”
Caitlyn’s father shifted slightly, his eyes still on the picture. “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of resignation and distant recollection.
Vi exhaled slowly, her fingers tracing the edge of the coffee cup she is holding. For a moment, she didn’t reply, her gaze fixed on the photograph of Cassandra. The silence stretched, not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken history.
“I thought so too,” Vi finally admitted, her voice low. She glanced at Caitlyn across the room, her expression softening as she watched her. “But Caitlyn has a way of pulling you in, doesn’t she? Makes it hard to stay away.”
Her words hung in the air, and Caitlyn’s father tilted his head slightly, as though considering them. Vi straightened, turning her attention back to him. Her voice grew quieter but firmer, as if speaking a truth she’d carried for years.
“For a long time, I hated you,” she said, her tone steady but raw. “I hated everything you stood for—rich, judgmental people who looked down on folks like me.”
Caitlyn’s father glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable.
Vi continued, her voice steady but softer, carrying a weight of vulnerability she rarely allowed herself to show. “But I realized… those people, their looks, their whispers—they don’t matter. Not really. I’d rather face all of that, every day, than be without Caitlyn. She matters more than their judgments—or yours—more than my pride... more than anything else.”
Her words hung in the air, unpolished but honest, a raw testament to the depth of her feelings.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze lingering on Vi this time.
Vi shifted, leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “Look, I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. I won’t pretend to understand, and honestly? I don’t care to. But what I do care about is Cait. She needs her father.”
Caitlyn’s father stiffened slightly but didn’t interrupt.
Vi stood, adjusting her sleeves as she glanced at Caitlyn again. “You still have a daughter,” she said quietly. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but there was an edge of insistence in her words. “Don’t make her go through this alone.”
As she walked away, Caitlyn’s father’s gaze followed her, his expression slowly shifting from detached grief to something more thoughtful, as if Vi’s words had struck a chord. He reached for the coffee cup beside him, lifting it to his lips and taking a slow sip, as though seeking solace or clarity in its warmth. He then looked back at the cup, the weight of her final words settling over him.