Amaya's voice was still ringing in Lucas's ears.
"My sister is dead."
The living room suddenly felt like a burial ground.
Lucas looked at her, unable to speak. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
Becky walked in slowly, like her feet were heavy, hands folded tightly behind her back, she needed to make an appearance to cover up any tracks.
"She… she jumped," Becky said, her voice quiet, like it hurt to say the words. "We were on the boat, and she said she wanted to be alone for a minute… next thing, I turned, and she was gone."
Lucas looked at her, stunned. "Jumped?"
"I thought she was just looking at the water," she added, quickly wiping her eyes. "She didn't say anything. I didn't know it was that serious."
She appeared too innocent, acting well the script she played in her head.
He walked to the center of the room, slowly shaking his head. "No… she wouldn't…"
"She did," Becky cut in. "I tried to look for her. I even screamed. But by the time the boat crew got there, she was already gone."
He lowered himself into the chair, covering his face with both hands. He didn't want to believe it, but the silence in the room made it harder to deny.
*******
Two days later, the police called.
A body had been discovered behind the riverbank, a few kilometers from where Alicia had last been seen. It had been in the water too long. The skin had darkened. The face was bloated, twisted, and barely recognizable, like an aquatic animal had fed on it.
Lucas, Becky, and Amaya arrived at the morgue together.
The air smelled different, polluted with chemicals. A police officer led them into a cold room with fewer beds and more space. A sheet covered what was underneath.
The attendant slowly pulled back the sheet.
The stench of decay filled the air.
Lucas turned his head away, and his stomach turned. Becky covered her mouth with her hand. But Amaya… she stepped forward and opened her mouth out of shock.
The face was no longer recognizable, but the dress, the blue dress Alicia had worn that evening, was still on the body. A thin silver bracelet was sitting pretty on the swollen wrist.
"That's her dress," Lucas whispered.
The room fell into silence.
"That's her bracelet," Amaya added, her voice breaking.
The officer looked up at them. "Can you confirm?"
Lucas nodded slowly. "It's her."
Amaya stepped back and burst into tears. She covered her face, her sobs echoing through the room.
Then she turned to Lucas, red-eyed, furious.
"You always wanted this," she spat. "She gave you her kidney, and now she's dead. Are you happy?"
"Amaya…"
"Eat the other kidney, Lucas. Swallow it with wine. I hope it helps you sleep at night."
Becky turned away, holding her arm and pretending to cry. But inside, she felt light.
Finally, she thought.
*****
Alicia's burial was small, quiet, and fast.
No church service, no choir, just a young priest reading short verses as the casket was lowered into the earth.
Amaya stood alone, umbrella shaking in her hand, her lips whispering things only she and the sky could hear.
Lucas held Maya in his arms, who didn't understand why everyone was crying. She kept asking where her mommy was.
He couldn't answer, for the very first time, he felt guilt and pity.
Becky stood at the back, a black veil over her face, pretending to dab at her eyes with a tissue that stayed dry.
When the final shovel of dirt hit the casket, Amaya dropped a white rose in and whispered, "You deserved better, Ali."
*******
Far away from the city, in a quiet private hospital surrounded by water, a man was standing outside. Just a glance at him, one can tell he is a sailor; his dress gave him away.
His hair was greying, but his face was something you wouldn't mind staring at for long; it was captivating. He was playing with his long fingernails, he was tired of waiting.
Inside the room, behind a half-open door, Alicia lay down.
She was covered in bandages. Her face was swollen, red, marked with bruises and deep cuts.
A doctor walked out of the room with a file in his hand.
"Doctor," the man asked quickly, stepping forward. "Will she be okay?"
The doctor sighed. "She's alive. That's the most important thing, Captain, but her face… It's damaged."
The man released a long breath he had held for a long time. "There must be something we can do."
The doctor looked up. "She needs advanced facial reconstruction. I recommend flying her to Turkey. One of the best hospitals there can perform it."
"Will she… look the same?"
"Unlikely. The bones are fractured, and the soft tissues are gone. She'll live, but with a new face."
The man looked through the glass at the woman who had nearly lost her life, the fortunate one who reminded her so much of his late wife. How she survived was still a miracle to him.
"I don't care about the cost," he said quietly. "Do whatever you have to. Save her."