Chapter 3 Father Is Dead

Before she even realized it, her consciousness quickly deserted her. Eleanor had no inkling when she passed out as she straddled enervation and wakefulness. When she fully came to, she felt the warm glow of the sun interplay with the cool dampness of the air from the open windows as they caressed upon her skin. The length of satin bound over her eyes was heavy with the grimy odor of sweat. As she winced against the ache that permeated every fiber of her body, the sound of splashing water reached her ear. An indeterminate amount of time transpired before the door to the washroom was pushed open. Out stepped Casper Beaumont in a freshly pressed suit; his strides took him to the side of the bed. Amidst the ruffled sheets, a patch of crimson stood out like a sore thumb. The man allowed his eyes to linger upon it before he rescinded his gaze. He then turned and departed without sentimentality. The woman allowed the door to close remorselessly on her before she battled her overwrought body into a sitting position. Tears streamed down her face unconsciously the moment the man left. Pulling the comforter around her closely, she bit her lip as the saltiness of her tears filled her senses. For her father to live, it was necessary for her to give herself to a stranger. Inexplicable sadness overwhelmed her the more she thought about it. She sat there, all alone, crying in the room, until she finally managed to calm down. Taking her time to dry her face, she then reassured herself. This too shall pass! Seven weeks later, the results came back positive - she was pregnant. Meanwhile, Eleanor’s fondness for what resided inside of her burgeoned alongside the size of her belly. Consanguinity was to dictate the strength of this bond, and the results of the monthly checkups continued to be encouraging. “Congratulations. You’re expecting twins.” The doctor told her. Anytime within the next month, she would be able to deliver a pair of healthy babies. But when that time came, they were to be taken from her. It was during this time that she received a call from the hospital. “Hi, may I know if this is Ms. Eleanor Shelby? Could I confirm if Mr. Bo Shelby is your father?” She was initially stunned when the call came in, but she managed to recover just as quickly. “Yes, he is. May I know what this is about? Has my father regained consciousness?” “No...” The nurse on the other end sounded tentative and apologetic. “We are very sorry, Ms. Shelby. As we were unable to treat him in time, your father didn’t make it.”