63 — SEVEN YEARS AGO […]

[...] *“Angel, I’m sorry for keeping this secret for so long. But I’m leaving this world, you need to know. It’s about your father…”*

I let out the smoke from the cigarette slowly. I’ve been sitting next to this grave for at least three hours… since my mother’s body was buried. I’m alone now. There weren’t many people grieving her death anymore, but now I’m completely alone, looking at this blue sky that doesn’t match such a sad day at all.
Today, I lost the only person I had in this whole world.
It was just the two of us, always.
But now, it’s just me.
… Or at least, that’s how I feel.
I look at the letter in my hand, my mother’s perfect handwriting. Something she wrote, I don’t know exactly how long ago, but from the yellowing of the paper, I’m sure it was years ago. And the truth kept in those words is something hard to accept… something that has been hidden from me for sixteen years… The fact that I was born from a one-night stand.
In this letter, my mother says that it took her some time to discover the identity of my father, but while still pregnant, she found out that he was a young man from an important family… And when his family found out about me, they rejected us.
They didn’t want a child out of wedlock… A child of an unmarried young woman with no family no money, from countryside Nevada. They didn’t want a *bastard* — yes, that’s what they called me, according to the letter. They just agreed to send a monthly sum so we could live comfortably, but on the condition that my father would never find out about me.
Well, I don’t blame my mother… What could a nineteen-year-old girl with such a small child do? No family, no support… Of course, she took the money. I would have done the same. There was no bond between them, just a night between inconsequential youngsters that had consequences… And the consequence is me.
But despite all that, my mother still named me Angelee… Because she said that I’m the angel in her life….
Remembering this makes my eyes sting, and not from the cigarette smoke burning between my fingers.
Taking another drag, I turn my eyes back to the letter, to the part where she says that finding out about the disease made her rethink her choices… About how she feared I would be alone and decided that, before she was stuck in the hospital bed, she would do her best to find out where my father is right now… And she found out he founded a company in New York City.
Just his name and an address in another state… that’s all I know about this man.
Part of me would like to ignore this; after all… for sixteen years, this was a gap in my life. So many moments when my father was absent, and I never knew why. Secretly, I hated him. I came up with absurd theories, trying to understand why my father was not by my side. The most tolerable one was that he died. And the cruelest was that he just didn’t want me. I never knew much about him, just some memories of my mother talking about him with a tender voice, always the same memories.
Today, I found out why and realize that none of these theories comes close to the truth — he simply doesn’t know about me.
Could I blame him for that?
I wish I could, but… I can’t…
After all, I’m alone now.
Alone in this cemetery, in this town, in this world.
He’s the last person I have left… But who’s to say he’ll really accept me? Suddenly, a girl comes up from nowhere and says *Hi, I’m your daughter…* I wouldn’t be surprised if he just kicked me out with nothing but rejection.
Still… I looked at the letter one more time, then put out the cigarette on the floor.
It’s getting cold… Winter is really harsh for those who have nothing left.
I stand up, slapping my pants to expel the dust from my pants… Then I look once more at Mom’s tombstone, her name, and the epitaph that says,

**ELISA D. WHITE**
*The light in the lives of those she loved.*

Certainly, the light of my life… And now that it’s extinguished, I feel lost in the darkness.

***

I lift my eyes, seeing the giant building in front of me. It’s so tall that I have to lift my face high and stretch my throat to see the top of it… It’s almost like it can reach the sky. Really, I have never seen anything like this before… Is this my father’s building?
Taking a deep breath, I enter the building, surprised by the luxurious furnishings… it’s so astonishing it seems to glow. I approach the reception desk fearfully, afraid of stepping on the porcelain floor and getting it dirty with the soles of my shoes…
Everything is so… amazing. It feels like an entirely different reality… I never imagined that there could be a place like this, so beautiful, so elegant…. I’m still dazzled when I finally stop in front of an elegant woman at the reception desk. She’s chewing gum, looking at the computer screen, and I expect her to raise her eyes to me… But that doesn’t happen.
“Excuse me?” I say in a low, almost faltering voice.
And she finally raises her eyes to me, over her glasses, still chewing her gum… in complete silence.
I dry my hand on the sides of my pants, feeling the roughness of the jeans.
“I’m here to see… Michael O’Neil…” The name escapes even lower, almost in a whisper.
“Who?” She asks loudly, and her voice is high-pitched.
“Michael O’Neil.” I struggle to say it a little louder, and now the woman is looking me up and down with obvious disdain in her expression.
“What’s your name?”
“Angelee.” I say, and receiving her judgmental eyes, I add, uncertainly, “Angelee White.”
The woman lowers her eyes to the computer and types something quickly… I’m surprised at how quick her fingers are on the keyboard. But she looks up at me again and, with an even more displeased expression, she says, “Sorry, I didn’t find your name. Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I… Uhm…” I bite my lip, uncertain… “I don’t.”
The woman chews her gum in silence.
“Then I’m sorry. Mr. O’Neil is really busy and can’t see you without an appointment.”
“But it’s really important!” I say loudly, slightly desperate, holding tightly to the edges of the counter. “I’ve come a long way… I don’t know anything about this place…”
She remains silent.
“If I don’t find him, I don’t know what I’ll do…”
“There’s nothing I can do, girl.” She says with mockery and disdain, which makes my heart clench.
“Please… can’t you call him and ask if he can fit me into his schedule? It’s important; I really need to talk to him…” Desperation can be heard in my voice, in my loud tone, in my anxious gestures… so much so that everyone’s eyes are on me.
“No, only with an appointment.” She frowns. “And unfortunately, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“Leave?” I step away from the counter with trembling hands. No, my whole body is shaking. “But I need to talk to Michael O’Neil! I’m his daughter!”
“Daughter?” The woman laughs… she really laughs, like I’m telling a joke. “Mr. O’Neil doesn’t have a daughter… Unless his fiancée is pregnant.”
*… Fiancée?*
I feel like my stomach has been punched… even the air is abruptly expelled from my lungs. And I stagger backward, completely bewildered…
What do you mean, fiancée? He… Does he have a fiancée? My father… my father already has a family…?
“If you don’t leave, I’ll have to call security.” The woman says with a bitter smile.
I shake my head, leaving this luxurious place that I clearly don’t belong to….
I’m so stupid. Did I really think there was any place for me here? With a man who, for sixteen years, has been unaware of having a daughter? A man who already has a fiancée — a life that seems to have no room to fit me in…?
My throat is so tight… I feel my eyes sting.
Outside the building, I raise my eyes, noticing snowflakes slowly falling from the sky. I reach out and wait for one to fall on my open palm… It’s so icy, but still, it doesn’t feel as cold as my heart.
“Hah,” I sigh deeply, closing my palm, melting this tiny, insignificant snowflake.
Dragging myself to the gutter, I sit down, curling my legs up to hug them…
It’s cold.
Really cold.
Now, what will I do? I’m in New York, but I don’t know anyone. There’s not much money left, either, since Mom’s treatment expenses and the funeral costs have almost wiped out our reserves.
Should I try to build my life here? I don’t know… The cost of living may be too high for a girl who is still in high school. But going back to Nevada, to my old town… There are too many memories. There’s too much sadness.
I look up at the sky, seeing that the snowflakes continue to fall, perhaps with more intensity. From now on, I should look for somewhere to stay tonight… Maybe I’ll find somewhere cheap….
Wait… Why are my eyes blurring…? They’re aching… Oh, yes… I’m crying.
How pathetic… I thought my last tears had been shed at the funeral. Apparently, there’s still a bit left in me.
I lean my forehead on my knees, hiding my face, hiding my sad expression. Not that anyone will care about me, anyway. People walk past and don’t even pay me a glance. Everyone is too concerned with their own lives.
It’s like I don’t exist here.
And I’m beginning to think that my existence is really insignificant-
“Hey, are you okay?” I hear a deep voice… a voice that, though unfamiliar, sends a shiver down my spine.
I finally lift my face, still hugging my legs, and notice an unfamiliar man standing before me, looking at me with concern.
Inevitably, I can’t help but be mesmerized by his green eyes that look like emeralds, even though they’re reflecting my pathetic figure, sitting in the gutter with nothing but a small bag with my few belongings…. However, it’s not his eyes that make me hold my breath — but his hair... it’s so blonde; it reminds me of the sun...
And just like that, I feel that light is getting through my darkness again.