Holy crap.
Someone actually answered.
Holy crap what do I do?

I sat there, staring wide eyed at the phone laying on the table. The phone crackled and the voice on the other line said again, "Hello?"
Mark pointed to it and said something but I couldn't hear him.
Nothing was processing in my head right now.

Everything seemed to be moving way too fast for my brain to keep up.

"Hello?" The person repeated for the third time, his voice holding a slight edge of annoyance.
"Say something," Mark whispered, nudging the phone towards me. I bent over cautiously and opened my mouth but nothing would come out.
I had so much to ask, so much to say, but everything was caught in the back of my throat.

And by the time I finally snapped out of it and regained the ability to form words, it was too late.
He had hung up.

I let out a sigh. Partily out of frustration but also partily out of relief. If I had said something to the guy on the phone, I would've sounded like an incoherent idiot.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Mark took his phone back and shoved it into his pocket but his eyes never left me. They were swimming with curiosity and concern...but for some reason, I could only focus on the curiosity part.
He seemed a little too eager to know.
But then again, who wouldn't be? This was a huge deal and me stalling the inevitable wasn't going to answer anything.

"I-I don't know," I managed to stammer out, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. "I mean, what was I suppose to say? Hi! I found your business card tucked away in the inner folds of my dead mother's jewelry box? He would've hung up either way."

"Well are you gonna call again?"
I picked up the business card and looked over the information again. Everything was stacked neatly underneath a big, gold logo of what looked like a play on a crescent moon. Up at the top, the words "CE Bank" was printed in the same gold ink.

"There's an address. We could go there and ask everything in person, and meet whoever this James Fung person is," I pointed at the address imprinted under the name. Mark nodded, standing up from the table again.
"So we're going tomorrow?"
"Whoa there," I stood up with him, waving my hands in protest, "no one said anything about going there tomorrow. That's a bit too soon."
"But shouldn't we meet this guy sooner rather than later? You know, just in case your dad-"
"My dad doesn't know about this business card. He may have a hunch about what's in the box but he doesn't know or have it so we're fine. Plus, I don't think I'm ready to meet this guy just yet. I don't know...I feel like everything is just happening so fast."

I slumped onto the couch, tilting my head into my hand. Mark came around and sat on the arm of the couch, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I leaned my weight on him, nestling my head to his side. His fingers drew little circles on my arm and I could feel his lips press againt the top of my head. We probably stayed like that for a few minutes before he finally said, "You're scared aren't you?"

I found myself nodding, shutting my eyes tightly and trying to block out the flashbacks of finding my mother crumpled on the ground. "I don't want my mom to die in vain....but I don't want to end up like her. And I sure as hell don't want to end up like my dad. Everything just seems like a lose-lose situation."
"You haven't lost though. Like you said, your dad doesn't have the box. You do. You have that seal and you have that card. You can still win this."
I nodded again, but this time my actions didn't really match what I was feeling.

I wanted to believe him.
Every part of me wanted so desperately to nod for the third time and truly mean it.
But then I would be lying to myself. Because honestly, everything about this whole situation was just one huge murky pile of crap. There was no "light at the end of tunnel" type thing. And even though I was desperately trying to dig myself out, every bit of effort was pulling me deeper in.

After showering and brushing my teeth, I let all the pillows and blankets on my bed swallow me up as I laid there in fetal position. All I did was go to my classes today, but I still felt ridiculously exhausted. I guess freaking out about your future can really drain you.
I groaned then rolled onto my stomach. Even with my puffy comforter blocking half of my vision, I could still see the top of the seal peek over.

It's like that thing is always watching me or something.
Or maybe it was me who was always watching it, scared that it might disappear randomly one day.
I shivered at the thought of it falling into my dad's hands as the the old man's voice echoed in my memories.
"Lots of people could die," I sighed out, reaching over and turning the light off on the night stand. "No pressure at all."

Author's Note
chapter title: Man Made Mess-Tim Be Told [x]