The Unlucky Turn by Mark Twain 55
Gloria stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “When Yvonne had her accident, Tamara sacrificed so much for us. You two have been engaged for four years; it’s time to consider marriage.”
Milford’s brow furrowed deep. “I’m not in the mindset to think about that right now.”
Besides, Tamara hadn’t mentioned wanting to get married recently. With Yvonne just starting her long recovery, how could he think of a wedding?
“Not in the mindset?” Gloria’s gaze was piercing. “Is it that you have no mindset for it, or are your thoughts still on Leilani?”
Milford looked up sharply.
Gloria stared him down, enunciating every word. “Milford, don’t disappoint me.”
With that, she left.
Milford stood in the corner silently for nearly half an hour. He walked to Yvonne’s room, listening to the chatter inside, his expression obscure.
Inside, Yvonne wanted to keep talking to Leilani, but footsteps approached.
Milford pushed the door open, his face grim. “Yvonne, it’s time to rest.”
Yvonne pouted. “I know, I know!” She winked at Leilani. “See you in a few days!”
Leilani nodded, packing her medical kit to leave. Milford followed her, silently escorting her
to the entrance.
Just as Leilani was about to step out, Milford spoke abruptly. “Leilani.”
She looked back.
Milford stood at the boundary of light and shadow, his voice low. “…Thank you.”
Leilani looked at him for two seconds, nodded indifferently, and turned to leave.
Milford watched her figure disappear into the night, his fists clenched.
Over the next few days, perhaps due to Gloria’s words, Milford suffered from constant nightmares. In his dreams, the image of a lifeless Yvonne and Leilani’s stubborn, despairing eyes replayed endlessly.
Waking from another nightmare, Milford had a thought. He rummaged through his room for a long time until he finally found a yellowing photograph.
It was a photo taken on Leilani’s eighteenth birthday, before the accident. The girl in the photo wore a white dress, standing before a cake with a bright, clean, slightly shy smile, her
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eyes holding the light of stars. The current Leilani, however, had eyes as cold as ice.
After believing Leilani was the culprit, he had discarded the photo in disgust. If not for the last few days, he wouldn’t have remembered he still had a picture with her.
In his dreams, Leilani repeated “It wasn’t me” over and over, her head held high in stubborn defiance. Even as everyone accused her and the police took her away, she hadn’t cried.
Milford rubbed his temples, a headache throbbing. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. After repeatedly hesitating, he picked up his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart.
The call connected. Leilani’s voice was as cold and distant as ever. “What is it?”
Milford’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He suddenly didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t say, “I’ve been dreaming about you.” That was easily misunderstood.
“… You mentioned renting a shop before. Do you still want it?” Milford found the clumsiest
excuse.
“No need. I already bought another one.”
Leilani’s voice was calm. The background noise of rustling paper suggested she was busy.
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