Pregnancy

In the kitchen of the Roar and Whistle Inn, Shelley carefully placed various food items into a basket. Before each placement, she pondered for a few seconds, considering if it would be too crowded or if the flavors might clash. Several times, she took out items she had already arranged, changed their positions, or even emptied the basket and started over. Ten minutes later, she covered the basket with a cloth, pressed on both sides with her hands, and handed it to Elin. "Take it away."

"You're really not coming?" Elin asked.

Shelley shook her head.

"There might be some things in here that the doctors advise against eating..." Elin uncovered the basket and inspected.

"Doctors, what do they know? If there's something they don't want to eat, let them pick it out and throw it away themselves."

"I think, at least, this should not be taken." Elin took out a piece of cake. This type of pastry was a hit at the birthday party.

"Why? Too much sugar?"

"You know what I mean."

"Okay." Shelley grabbed the cake. "Let me see what else shouldn't be taken."

She pulled the basket back from Elin, holding the handles with both hands without moving or speaking.

"Shelley."

"I can't pick them out. These are all things he likes to eat. So, if cakes are not allowed, and these are not allowed either, just throw them all away."

"Give it to me." Elin snatched the basket back. "Early in the morning, what are you quarreling with me for?"

Shelley pressed her palms on the table, still looking down. Elin heard a faint sob, like someone spending the night in the woods suddenly hearing the sound of dripping water between the rocks; it came from an indistinct and distant place, delicate yet impossible to ignore.

"Hey." Elin leaned forward a bit, lowering his voice. "Your husband is right outside, Shelley. Just being alone with me here is enough to make him unhappy. What else do you want?"

"Shut up. This is not funny at all."

"I don't want to make you laugh. I just want to say, don't cry, okay? I'm taking these things to the hospital, not to a cemetery. Crying like this is very unlucky."

"This matter is too... I can't bear it. Why does it have to happen?"

Many people should feel guilty, but not you, Shelley."

"I have done things that I regret to him."

"You can't keep mentioning those old..." Elin paused for a moment, then said, "Wait a minute. This expression is not right. What are you talking about?"

"I understand that I can never be with him again... but when I knew he was with her, I felt uncomfortable. You said I'm unlucky, right? I really, really secretly thought about what would happen to separate them... Why do I have such thoughts? It's hateful."

"It's nothing. You're a woman, and that's completely understandable. I'm leaving; you cry if you want, but it's best to wipe away your tears before David comes in."

"That man, what's his name... Aved? Right? He looks like a nice person, doing so much work on his birthday. I really don't understand why you guys can stay in such a place and work so hard. Everyone around is the same on the surface, but different inside. If every guest of mine wants to eat a different dish when ordering this kind of food, I'll go crazy. I hate SI:7, and I want it to disappear."

"That's not right, Shelley." Elin lifted the basket. "People who are two-faced and take advantage of it to do bad things will always exist, just like people die every day. Precisely because we are here, you don't have to spend your energy identifying those people. But to catch them, we must first understand them, and the best way is to become like them. Aved? He can never go back. I'm leaving."

Elin put the pastry back into the basket.

Jorgen sat on a bench in front of the lawn, hands resting on his knees. The intense sunlight bathed everything in a dazzling brilliance, turning the tender green leaves into a translucent, lake-like shade of green within a radiant halo. The figures moving back and forth at the end of the line of sight became blurry dots. However, the sunlight wasn't scorching; it presented a quality that easily turned gentle in the persuasion of a light breeze, like a child who loves to talk loudly but never causes a disturbance. Sitting in this sunlight, Jorgen didn't deliberately contemplate anything, nor did he pay much attention to the hidden pain from his wounds. Only when the wind brushed over the back of his hand did he feel a slight itch on his knuckles.

In front of him, a group of priests walked by, debating an issue with suppressed excitement. On this tree-lined path, more patients accompanied by nurses came out for a walk. A person with bandages on their head greeted Jorgen, and he nodded, although he didn't know the person. Not long after, he saw a girl crossing the grass towards him, holding a basket. An adult walked a bit behind her. He recognized them as Elin and Elaine.

When they were still a short distance away from Jorgen, Elin patted Elaine's back. Elaine looked up at her dad, then quickened her pace to reach Jorgen and handed him the basket, saying, "Mr. Jorgen, my dad and I came to see you. These are things Mrs. Shelley made for you." She paused for a moment, pushing the basket a bit further. "They're delicious."

Jorgen looked at Elaine. She pressed her lips together, seemingly hesitant to show a smile.

"Thank you." Jorgen took the basket and placed it to his right.

"So, you're here. The nurse said you came out for a walk," Elin said, looking around. "The weather is really nice."

He sat down on Jorgen's right, with the basket between them. Elaine also sat beside her dad.

"It's really good weather," Elin said, clasping his hands together, resting them on his knees, then turned to Jorgen. "Aren't you going to see what Mrs. Shelley made for you?"

"I'm not very hungry."

"Oh."

They fell into silence for a while. Elin glanced around again. Elaine shifted in her chair, leaned out, looked at Jorgen beyond Elin, then pulled back, kicking the bottom of the bench with her heels. After kicking a few times, she began to tap out a rhythm.

"Dad is going to talk to Mr. Jorgen; don't make noise," Elaine said.

Hearing Elaine's words, she immediately stopped, dangling her legs in mid-air.

"It's okay, let her play by herself," Jorgen said.

Elaine didn't continue tapping.

Elin looked at Jorgen. His companion was always a silent person, but now he seemed to exist in an independent silent space. Not only did he not speak, but the tendency to speak was also lurking beneath the surface. The silence in reality was a rebellion against the noisy world, and in the world Jorgen now inhabited, silence was a fundamental virtue, a rule of life. In the past, Elin had been accustomed to involving Jorgen, who was lost in work-related meditation, in his ceaseless commentary on alcohol and women. He admitted that it would evoke a mischievous sense of pleasure, but now he didn't even want to think about such conversations. For a long time, he felt the need to carefully select suitable words from his impoverished vocabulary.

"So... how are your injuries?"

"Tell me about the progress of the case."

"Oh, okay. Actually, my part of the work is almost done; now it's busy on the prosecutor's side. Deza retired early because of a corruption scandal, and his son's entry into the institution went smoothly, so someone is definitely going to lose their position. They hope to handle this whole thing as quietly as possible."

"How do they plan to keep it quiet?"

"For example..." Elin glanced at Elaine, leaned closer to Jorgen, and lowered his voice. "They secretly executed Ivanov yesterday in the headquarters' basement."

"No public trial."

"No. They can't afford the consequences of a public trial, especially with Deza's suicide. The decision now is to present it this way: Deza committed suicide out of remorse, and his son resigned due to immense pressure, transferring to a remote location for legal education. For security reasons, his whereabouts cannot be disclosed. So, officially, Ivanov is still alive, with a complete record, but he simply doesn't exist. The next step is to control the civilian media. Although they can't completely prevent them from questioning Ivanov's fate, they won't suspect secret execution. Even in the parliament and the royal family, not everyone has the chance to know the truth – this won't reach the king. Also, Canal Morning Post has been shut down and reorganized."

"Does the prosecutor's office have the capability to do such things?"

"No. This was the old man's idea. He arranged everything."

Jorgen furrowed his brow. "Why would he do that?"

"The main reason is to take the initiative. After all, MI7 also bears responsibility, and there might be clever people within the prosecutor's office thinking of using Aved to attack us, even if they lack all of Aved's information. The old man can't let that happen, so he proposed these suggestions when there was internal confusion on the other side. When he mentioned giving up the public prosecution of Ivanov, most of them were overjoyed. In reality, this is making MI7 and the prosecutor's office jointly keep a secret, but the old man portrays it like we're doing them a favor. Then, he added an additional requirement: during the secret trial, you are not required to testify, and the prosecutor's office is permanently prohibited from investigating you and Dalia in any way."

Jorgen looked at a fan-shaped light spot in the distance on the grass, not saying anything. After a moment, he realized it was someone watering.

"I'm just telling you these, Jorgen, just stating the facts. I won't judge the old man's actions for you. Just facts."

"Okay."

They fell into silence again. Elaine continued tapping her heels, and this time Elin didn't stop her.

"Jorgen, I just..." He paused for a moment and continued, "I happened to go to Dalia's ward just now. She's not there."

"She's somewhere else."

"...Where?"

"In another building."

"Oh... changed rooms?"

"No. She's going to have surgery."

"What kind of surgery? Nothing serious, right?"

"Terminating the pregnancy."

Elin frowned, gazing at Jorgen, but the sound of Elaine kicking the bench suddenly irritated him.

"Kick it again and see." Elin shouted to his daughter. Elaine's movements froze, her eyes staring at the ground. Elin ignored her daughter, turned back to Jorgen, and finally noticed how rigidly formal he had chosen to describe the situation. No words directly related to life were involved: "child," "pregnant," "she." Although it quieted down, Elin couldn't think of anything to say and didn't know if he should stay here.

Jorgen didn't expect Elin to say anything either.

Lindy informed Jorgen two nights ago that Dalia had been pregnant for almost two months. On the evening of the first time he was invited to Dalia's house for a meeting, after the discussion ended, Dalia caught up with him, expressing her concerns. Lindy arranged tests for her, confirming the pregnancy.

"You have to make a decision, Jorgen," Lindy said. "If the surgery is delayed beyond two months of pregnancy, it will cause significant harm to her body."

At that moment, Jorgen felt as if a stubborn monster lurked in his mind, preventing him from truly grasping these words. He knew the meaning of each word and the combined meaning, but that monster chewed and mixed them up again. When they entered Jorgen's brain, they seemed to have become a mist on the water's surface, forever beyond reach as a reality in the palm of his hand. He didn't feel sadness or excitement; he just felt lost. But when he responded, it seemed like it was only his logic speaking, not him.

"You mean... it has to be done?"

"Not necessarily, that's why I let you choose. Listen to me, Jorgen. As a doctor, I must admit: I don't know when Dalia will wake up. I've consulted the best experts in our field – practically, we're at the limits of our current medical knowledge. We've encountered several cases like this and slowly accumulated some coping methods, but the results are not ideal. To be straightforward, whether the patient wakes up is beyond our control. I'm sorry."

After a pause, Lindy continued when he saw Jorgen didn't respond.

"Of course, to expedite Dalia's recovery, we'll do everything within the permissible limits. Continuing the pregnancy is risky, and the fetus will take nutrients away from the mother. However, there are precedents where unconscious mothers gave birth to healthy babies. So, the decision is yours."

Several minutes passed before these words forcefully entered Jorgen's brain. In the time he was unaware, Dalia had become a mother. A woman becomes a mother the moment the fetus is conceived, but it's only after protecting the woman through the childbirth process that a man truly qualifies to share all the pain and joy surrounding the child, truly qualifying as a father. Jorgen wasn't yet a father, and now he was about to lose that chance. Dalia would briefly become a mother on her own, then discard that identity, and Jorgen, who had to make the decision, was just an outsider.

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"I asked Dalia. She said... she wasn't quite sure, just felt it wasn't the right time to say because there were too many troubles at that time. She said as soon as the handover to the agency was completed, all the miscellaneous matters settled, she would tell you immediately. But before that, she didn't want to trouble you further."

With the understanding of these words, Jorgen could finally land in reality. He recalled reading Elin's letter to Dalia and the day they looked at Elaine's landscape painting together – her unusual excitement. She couldn't wait, couldn't wait to end all the trivial matters, and then wait for him in Lakeside Town. However, that excitement, rather than being excitement and anticipation for happiness, was more like lack of confidence. She didn't know if she could do it. She didn't know if they could do it. The expectation of a quiet life together was already heavy, and before seeing the dawn of reality, she kept the pregnancy as a secret. When they finally achieved their wish, the revelation of this secret would be a true sign of happiness, like a lighthouse gradually appearing in the fog after a arduous voyage. Until then, Dalia preferred to bear it on her own, adding to her own burden to lighten the shared load, like a sensitive and gentle cart driver, knowing that more hauling would earn more bread but afraid of burdening the beloved horse.

But you were wrong, Dalia. You were wrong. After you wake up, how should I say to you? How should I blame you? What should I do to make you realize that you were wrong? Wake up, Dalia... After you wake up, the first thing I have to say is how outrageously wrong you were... 

A quarter of an hour later, Elin and Elaine arrived outside the hospital. Before leaving, Jorgen ate half a piece of the specially made cake in front of them.

People kept coming in and out of the hospital gate, and there were many people on the street. Elin held his daughter's hand, walked around a corner, and stopped in a relatively quiet alley.

"Dad?" Elaine said. "Aren't we going home?"

"We are," Elin said, sitting down by the street as if looking at the roadsides without any purpose.

Anyone who wants to interfere and stop you from trying, first has to step over my Elin Tias' corpse. No exceptions for anyone.

Elaine stood there, looking at Elin, pulling the hem of her dress with her right hand.

"Come, sit with Dad for a while." Elin pulled his daughter to his side, letting her forehead rest against his right cheek.

A decaying, swollen, and fly-infested corpse.

"Elaine."

"Dad?"

"Dad will tell you a lesson, you must remember."

"What lesson?"

"Don't make random oaths. If you make a vow, you must fulfill it. Otherwise, you'll become the dumbest and most hated person in the world. Remember?"

When he said these words, Elin didn't look at Elaine and didn't know if she answered. He always felt that he could have prevented all this. The day before it happened, he told Dalia that he would disturb her meeting with Lindy and then that vow. At this moment, his brain was completely occupied by this image: Dalia kissed his right cheek, then smiled and said, "Thank you." Faced with this oath that Elin knew was a big talk, but still felt like a true vow, she said:

"Thank you."