The Stranger in the Rain
Betty's eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth agape as she struggled to process the astonishing news.
"What?!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with incredulity.
She had never heard of such a phenomenon before - it was nothing short of a miracle! Meanwhile, in a dark alley, David's body shook with uncontrollable tears, his anguish pouring out like the sudden downpour that drenched him to the bone.
As if the skies themselves were mourning his pain, the rain burst forth from the gray heavens, veiling his tears and sobs in its relentless embrace.
David slumped against the alley entrance, his trembling hands clasped together as if in a desperate prayer.
His shaky breaths harmonized with the rain's rhythmic beat, while silent sobs ravaged his body.
"Why, Mom? Why did you leave me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rain.
He curled up, surrendering to the torrent, as the rain soaked through his clothes, chilling his skin.
The downpour enveloped him like a shroud, hiding his tears and masking his anguish, yet somehow amplifying the depth of his sorrow.
A car halted by the roadside, its engine purring like a distant beast.
Footsteps echoed through the alley, each step deliberate and calculated, as if the approaching figure savored the anticipation.
David's eyes flickered open, casting a wary gaze upon a pair of black leather shoes, polished to a mirror finish, and suit pants that seemed to blend with the darkness.
The legs stood motionless, like sentinels guarding a secret.
A low, gravelly voice spoke, its tone a mixture of curiosity and disdain, "what a pitiful state you're in, David Palmer." The name hung in the air like a challenge, or a threat.
"David's gaze faltered, his vision blurry from the tears that refused to cease. He squinted, struggling to focus on the figure looming above him.
The features were indistinct, shrouded in a haze of rain and sorrow.
The deep voice repeated the query, its resonance echoing through David's mind like a gentle prod.
"David Palmer?" The words hung suspended, as if awaiting a response that might unlock a hidden truth.
Slowly, David's eyes cleared, and he nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on the stranger's chest, unable to muster the courage to look higher.
A heavy silence fell, like a shroud of grief, before David exhaled a slow, icy breath.
His voice was laced with coldness, a fragile armor against the pain. "Yes, what do you want?" he asked, his words barely audible over the rain's relentless beat.
The stranger's presence felt like an intrusion, a violation of David's shattered world.
"I'm here to help, I'm not your enemy," the man said, his hands extended in a calming gesture, his voice low and soothing.
Yet, David's instincts remained wary, his heart still reeling from the devastating blow.
David's gaze narrowed, his eyes fixed on the black-gloved hand as if it were a snake ready to strike.
He recoiled, his mind racing with doubts and fears. "I ask again, what do you want?" he spat, his voice laced with venom.
The stranger's expression remained impassive, his voice unwavering. "I'm the butler of Sir Martin Raye, who ordered me to bring you to him, young master."
David's response was instantaneous, his words dripping with hostility. "I don't know who you are, or this Sir Martin Raye! Leave me alone, and get lost!"
The air seemed to vibrate with tension, the rain intensifying as if sensing David's turmoil.
"I know it won't be easy to bring you to him, especially in this state you're in but, Martin Raye, your father, ordered I bring you to him," the butler said.
The butler's words hung in the air, his gaze unwavering as he beheld David's incredulous expression.
He stood tall, his imposing frame exuding an aura of quiet authority, his black suit immaculately tailored to accentuate his broad shoulders and chest.
A crisp white shirt and black tie adorned his neck, a silver pin gleaming with subtle elegance. His face, chiseled and strong, seemed carved from granite, with piercing brown eyes that seemed to bore into David's very soul.
A hint of gray at his temples bespoke his age, yet his presence was formidable, commanding respect.
"My father?" David's voice was barely audible, his mind reeling as the butler's words shattered the fragile reality he thought he knew
David's eyes widened in disbelief, his mind racing to reconcile the butler's words with the lies he had been told.
The butler's gaze remained steady, his eyes piercing through David's facade.
"Am I right to believe that Madam Laura has not informed you about your father, Martin?" he asked, his tone soft yet insistent, as if coaxing the truth from David's lips.
The silence between them grew thicker, like a challenge waiting to be accepted.
David saw that the man may truly know his mother, but he didn't believe that his father was alive.
He had so many questions.
"I know you have a lot of questions, why don't you just come with me, I promise all your questions will be answered!" The man assured.
David's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with doubts. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked, his voice firm but laced with a hint of uncertainty.
The butler's response was calm and patient, "You don't, David. But I assure you, the truth is waiting for you at the Raye Estate. Are you willing to take that chance?"
David grasped the man's outstretched hand and pulled himself up, water dripping from his clothes.
The man nodded sympathetically and led him to the car, retrieving a towel from the trunk
He draped the towel over David's shoulders and ushered him into the passenger seat, before taking his own seat in the front.
As soon as they were both settled, the driver hit the gas and the car accelerated rapidly, speeding away from the curb.
Betty's worry deepened as the hours ticked by and David remained unreachable. She had tried calling him multiple times, but her calls went straight to voicemail.
She was eager to share the shocking news about his mother - that she was alive, but still comatose - and her concern for David's well-being grew with each passing minute.
Betty's anxiety escalated as she sat outside Laura's hospital room, unable to reach David. The relentless rain drummed against the windows, echoing her growing unease.
She dialed David's number again, her eyes fixed on the phone as it rang, only to be met with silence. The voicemail prompt beeped, and she hesitated, unsure what to say.
"David, please answer. I need to tell you about your mother." She hung up, feeling helpless and uncertain about her next move.
Betty let out a frustrated sigh, her concern momentarily giving way to exasperation.
"Tch, he's not my responsibility anyway,"she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.
With a swift motion, she gathered her bag and strode towards the elevator, her heels clicking on the hospital floor.
The doors slid open with a soft whoosh, and she stepped inside, her expression set in a determined line.
Despite her concern for David, Betty had other pressing matters to attend to. She pushed aside her worries, telling herself, 'David's a grown man, he can handle whatever's going on.
He'll come back when he's ready.' With a sense of resolve, she stepped into the elevator and hit the button for the lobby.
The swift descent barely gave her time to gather her thoughts before the doors slid open, depositing her at the bustling reception area.
As Betty made her way towards the exit, her ears caught a snippet of conversation that made her heart skip a beat.
"It's just tragic, a young man like that, so handsome and full of life, meeting such a terrible end," a nurse was saying.
"And still, no one has come forward to identify him, even after the announcement."
Betty's pace slowed, her mind racing with a growing sense of dread.
Who were they talking about? And what terrible end had he met?
The nurse's colleague nodded in agreement. "And to think, he might never get the justice he deserves. That driver will probably never be caught, living it up in their luxury car, while a young life is cut short."
She shook her head, her voice laced with disgust. "I mean, can you believe it? A Lamborghini Sian FKP 37, of all cars! The culprit might as well have left a calling card. No, they'll never get caught, and it's a travesty."
Betty's feet seemed rooted to the spot, her mind racing with uncertainty. Should she investigate further and risk confirming her worst fears?
David's persistent silence - over an hour with no answer - gnawed at her, fueling her anxiety.
Was he okay? Was he even alive? The questions swirled in her head, refusing to let her move or think clearly.
Betty approached the nurses, her heart pounding in her chest. "Excuse me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I know it's a long shot, but...could I see him?" The nurse's expression softened, and she nodded sympathetically.
"Of course, follow me." She led Betty towards the elevator, leaving her colleague behind, who had lost interest in the conversation now that the drama was apparently over.
As the elevator descended to the lowest floor, Betty's anxiety grew. The air seemed to thicken, and a chill ran down her spine.
When the doors finally opened, a cold draft enveloped her, making her shiver.
She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing, before following the nurse out into the dimly lit corridor.
The fluorescent lights overhead cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the sense of foreboding.
Betty's eyes fixed on the nurse's back, her feet seeming to move of their own accord as she trailed behind, her senses on high alert.
The nurse led Betty down a dimly lit hallway, the air growing thick with the scent of disinfectant and something else - something metallic and sweet.
Betty's nose wrinkled as the smell intensified, her hand instinctively rising to cover her nose and mouth. The stench of blood was overwhelming, making her eyes water.
The nurse pushed open a door, revealing a small, stark room, and Betty's stomach lurched.
Even the nurse seemed affected, her expression flickering with distaste before she composed herself, seeming to think Betty was overreacting.
"In here," she said curtly, gesturing for Betty to enter.
"Here we are," the nurse said softly, her voice a gentle precursor to the stark reality that lay before them.
She led Betty to a stretcher in the corner of the room, where a figure lay shrouded in light blue scrubs, the clothing pulled up to cover the face like a shroud.
The effect was eerie, rendering the body almost invisible in the dim light.
Betty's heart raced as she hesitated, her eyes fixed on the shape, her mind struggling to reconcile the anonymous form with the person she had been trying to reach.
Betty's heart raced like a drum, pounding in her chest as she approached the stretcher with trepidation.
She drew a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, but her mind was already spiraling into dark possibilities.
The figure's height, shrouded in scrubs, seemed to match David's, and her thoughts raced with worst-case scenarios.
The nurse stood patiently, her eyes understanding, waiting for Betty's nod to reveal the face.
Betty's hand trembled as she reached out, her eyes fixed on the cloth covering the face, her heart heavy with foreboding
Betty's nod was barely perceptible, but the nurse understood.
With a gentle touch, she pulled back the sheet, revealing a sight that made Betty's stomach roil.
The face was battered and bruised, eyes swollen shut, and a deep gash dissected the forehead.
Blood had dried in patches, like dark stickers on the skin.
Betty's hand flew to her mouth, her gag reflex kicking in as she struggled to process the gruesome sight before her. The nurse's expression was somber, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and understanding.