EPILOGUE

It was 9:13 in the evening. A woman, a man, and a boy were dining silently at a table. The only sound that could be heard were those made from the clashing of aluminium cutleries on ceramic plates.

At that moment, the boy seemed focused on cutting a piece of meat on his plate with the cutleries in his hands. The man-with food still left on his plate-watched the boy in amusement as he struggled to cut the piece of meat with the tools in his hands.

The woman, not oblivious to the scene in front of her, seemed to pay more attention to the phone beside her plate as she ate.

"And what good value will using these useless cutleries instil in me!" The boy protested.,

"Table manners," the woman said, and that seemed to stop further protestations from the boy as he returned to cutting with a grumpy look. The man also returned to his food with a smile on his face.

The silence continued for about five minutes and was broken by the boy when he was done eating. "I can't believe I became more intelligent by using a fork and a knife, and I just can't seem to thank you enough!"

"You'll be thanking her sometime in the future when you realise this is a useful skill, and that time, the appreciation would not be sarcastic," the man said.

"Can't wait," the boy said. He stood up, cleared the plates from the table, and moved them to the kitchen.

"I see you're still worried," the man said to the woman. "He does this every time. He'll be fine."

"I've been trying his number for hours now; it’s switched off," the woman said. "His battery is probably dead. He'll call you when-”

The phone on the table rang just then, and a look of relief on the woman's face was all the man needed to know who it was on the other side of the call.

"I told you to call when you get to school; what took you so long?" The woman said as soon as she picked up the call before the person on the other side could say anything.

"Yes, it is; who am I speaking with?" The woman said.

"The man lifted his head from his phone, surprised by the turn of the conversation."

"Who's that?" The man asked.

The woman did not reply. The boy stood transfixed at the kitchen door he had just exited, looking intently at the woman just as the man was.

"No, no, no," she said.

"It cannot be!" She cried out as tears began to form in her eyes.

The man sprung to his feet as he collected the phone from the woman's hand.

"Who's speaking?" The man said with all the strength he could muster.

"That's right," the man said to the person on the other side of the call.

In about thirty seconds, the man wore a look of helplessness.

"Text me the address," the man spoke into the phone with a much weaker voice than when he took it from the woman. He sank into the chair and dropped the phone on the dining table.

With the current mood in the room, the boy could quickly tell what sort of news his parents had received. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

He went around the dining table and looked at the caller’s identity on the phone his father had just dropped.

My brother’s number, he thought to himself, but he was not the one at the other end of the call...