Chapter 69
DIANA
Four Months Later
Bàba’s grief lingers all the way to the beginning of April.
The mansion mourns with him. Incense burns from the prayer table like it has been for the last four months. It clings onto my clothes, my skin, the air I breathe.
Any hope of telling bàba the truth about Kai and my decision to leave the HMG died the moment āgōng did.
He took bàba’s composure with him, too. If he was aggressive and explosive before, he’s unpredictable and volatile now.
“This script is garbage.”
Bàba tosses the papers onto his desk with a scowl that makes me tense.
“We made the necessary changes you suggested,” I answer measuredly. “You had read this over in January.”
“If I had read it over, I wouldn’t have approved it.”
My hands curl into fists. Bàba’s mind has been spiraling ever since āgōng’s death. Pieces of his memory are so scattered and broken, he’s like a record player with damaged grooves that can no longer be read the same way.
“I want you to take out the segment on misogyny,” he demands.
Rage slashes my crumbling patience. “That section is too important to remove,” I insist.
“We’re supposed to be delivering news, not sob stories,” Bàba spats.
“The ongoing discrimination against women in science has impeded the arctic ice investigation numerous times,” I reason. “The challenges they’ve overcome attest to how determined they are to get to the root of the issue.”
Revulsion warps his face. “I couldn’t care less about that,” Bàba snaps. “It’s a waste of time.”
“We’ve already begun filming and recording for all three parts!” I gasp.
Bàba swings his fist against his desk.
“This is what I’m talking about!” he shouts. “This insolence and disrespect! You used to do everything I told you to do!”
“Because this is a project I’m handling!”
“Under the direction of my company. You lack the experience and the expertise I’ve spent years honing. When I tell you to do something, you listen, and you take it!”
After months of watching my words and holding my breath, my patience finally snaps.
“I don’t just twirl my hair in class, bàba! I pick up new skills to make me competent in my work. I wouldn’t be editor-in-chief of the Howler if I didn’t have experience and expertise.”
Bàba scoffs. “That trivial media outlet is nothing compared to the prestige of the HMG.”
“What’s the point of getting us to lead the HMG if you won’t let us exercise our judgment?”
“Just because you have a chance to become CEO, it doesn’t mean you can uproot everything!”
“Then if you don’t like the way I do things, why don’t you just let me go?”
I pale in shock. Bàba blinks.
Whenever I imagined telling him the truth, I always expected him to scream, crack the wall, shatter ceramic. He doesn’t. He’s as stiff as the decorative blade glinting on the wall behind him.
Bàba leans back in his chair. I gulp when I see his hands curl over his armrests.
“Is that what you want?”
My heart pounds so fast, it aches from the effort.
One word.
That’s all it takes to cut the first knot around my throat.
Relief bursts inside of me at the thought, growing into a courage that finally pushes the truth off my tongue.
“Yes.”
“You are going to walk away from me,” he snarls, “after everything I’ve given you?”
Guilt sinks into my resolve until I’m drowning in regret. But it’s not enough to silence the realizations I’ve come to.
“I can be grateful for what you’ve given me and still want better for myself.”
Bàba curses. His hands sweep across his desk, shoving the papers off. “You are just like your āmā! She never stopped spewing nonsense about walking away from the company!”
“Because the life the HMG built for us isn’t worth living!
” I cry out. My trembling fingers rake through my hair as the words fire out.
“We’re constantly fighting to stay on top by scheming and competing with each other for your approval.
It’s sick! I hate the way you made me think that was the way of the world, but it’s not.
āmā knew that! She was the only one who knew that! ”
Now, she’s gone. I have so many questions I want to ask her, and she’ll never be around to answer them.
But I know what she’d do in this case.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and smooth a hand over my dress. Before bàba can utter a word, I leave. I don’t spare him another glance when I walk away from him, from that blade hanging over his head, and from a path I no longer want to go down.