Filed to story: The Daughter in the Shadows (Yunice) Book by Una Norris
Elsie clung to Lily, crying harder. “Then what are you hesitating for?”
Owen didn’t believe in any of this. The dead couldn’t come back. Even if they performed some kind of ritual, it wouldn’t change his life in any real way. So suppressing Will’s spirit wasn’t out of the question.
“Yunice probably won’t agree.”
“Yunice’s opinion doesn’t matter, and we don’t need to tell her,” Lily said. “You’re the head of this family-what you say goes.”
Faced with both Lily’s and Elsie’s pleading eyes, Owen froze for a few seconds before finally caving. “Fine.”
They’d find someone to perform the ritual. It’d calm Lily down; maybe then she’d stop spinning out.
When Lily saw that Owen agreed, she insisted on choosing the master herself. She didn’t trust Owen to take it seriously. What if he hired someone who couldn’t actually handle Will’s spirit?
Owen agreed to that too.
Late at night, the cemetery was quiet. After the recent grave-robbing incident, it had been busy for a few days, and they’d even hired people to keep watch. But once public attention died down, the graveyard slipped back into its usual desolate state. And at this hour, not a soul was in sight. The living had more value than the dead-who would waste their energy on corpses?
Like Will’s grave. No one ever thought of him, until now-when he became nothing more than a bargaining chip to keep Yunice in line.
Yunice walked toward Will’s grave, the clinking of her shovel and crowbar echoing through the empty cemetery. Owen had stopped by earlier in the day, but Lily had called him back before he could do anything. So Yunice had to act first-move her father’s resting place to somewhere only she knew. The cemetery guard was nowhere to be seen, off wandering God-knows-where. No one was around to stop her.
Using a crowbar and a rock as a lever, Yunice pried open the arched blue slate tiles one by one from her father’s grave.
As she worked, she muttered, “Dad, your clueless son’s no help. I need you to come with me and give up this spot. I just opened a clinic in Northvale-you know the place, right? It used to be a mass grave, left untouched for over ten years. But now Wyatt’s taken it over. Heard he’s planning to build a hospital there. I figured I’d find you a good spot, and we’ll be close. I can drop by and bring you some meatballs you liked.”
She paused, straightened up, and added, “You probably don’t know who Wyatt is yet, huh? He’s your soon-to-be son-in-law. In about two weeks, he and I will officially be fake husband and wife.”
‘s Silence
The moment the words left her mouth, a soft cough sounded behind her. Yunice flinched, a jolt running down her spine. She spun around in a panic. What scared her wasn’t the fact that someone had made a sound-it was whose voice it was.
Sure enough. Wyatt stood there, palm resting lightly on his cane, his face half in shadow, lit by moonlight, watching her with amused eyes.
Yunice gripped the shovel in both hands, looking guilty and startled. Did he hear everything I just said? Wait, isn’t he supposed to… Timp? This can usually clacks loudly against the ground. So why don’t I hear him coming this time!
Wyatt said, “You’ve been missing for days. So this is where you’ve been-badmouthing people in a cemetery.”
Okay, so he definitely heard everything. Still, Yunice didn’t think she’d said anything all that bad. It was all true, and besides, she didn’t think Wyatt would care. She didn’t dwell on it.
Wyatt limped over slowly, uneven steps crunching the gravel. He turned around and sat on a marble slab next to Will’s tombstone, one hand braced on his knee. Once he was settled, he looked up at Yunice. She stood with a frown, visibly annoyed by his presence.
Seeing Wyatt sitting shoulder to shoulder with her father’s grave marker, Yunice shot him a look. “That’s my dad’s tombstone.”
Wyatt glanced at the headstone beside him. In the dark, it was hard to make out the name. Who would even notice? Then he looked back at Yunice’s furrowed brow, her whole face bristling with irritation. He smirked, then dramatically lifted himself and slid over to the next grave. Once there, he leaned against the stranger’s headstone like it was a backrest.
, Run!
Yunice muttered to herself, “People these days really don’t care about the dead anymore.” She didn’t bother asking why Wyatt was there; he wasn’t going to fight her for her dad’s ashes.
So she didn’t avoid him while digging. The surface slate had already been pried up, and now Yunice was shoveling through the soil beneath. Wyatt sat nearby, just watching, not helping at all. “Digging up your dad’s grave? What a dutiful daughter,” he remarked.
Yunice didn’t respond to the jab, focused entirely on digging. After a moment, Wyatt added lazily, “He’s already dead. It’s just a pile of ashes. Is it really worth all this?” Ashes were just inorganic dust-good for fertilizer maybe, but not much else.
“If someone can be controlled by a pile of dust, they were never going to amount to much anyway,” he scoffed. Yunice kept working, unfazed by his ridicule. People valued different things; it all came down to perspective.
Wyatt had clawed his way to the top, didn’t even… Yunice thought. How could he understand what it meant to hold onto ashes?
“I’m not being controlled by a pile of dust,” Yunice said. “I just want something to remember him by.”
“Real death doesn’t come when the heart stops or the breath ends,” she added. “It’s when no one remembers you anymore. I won’t forget my dad. The ashes are him. His belongings are him. That bracelet of agarwood beads on your wrist-that’s him too. Every object carries a memory of him and me. It matters.”
She paused, then added, “But all that stuff is external. Even if I lost it, he wouldn’t blame me.”
Wyatt glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist and sneered. “Lost it? Then what happens to your precious memories?”
“How could they be gone?” Yunice looked up, calm and relaxed. “All I have to do is look in the mirror. The greatest gift my dad gave me is myself. As long as I take care of myself, those memories are still alive.”
Wyatt looked like her words caught him off guard. After a beat, he let out a dry, mocking chuckle. Yunice was used to his smug, self-centered attitude. The urn wasn’t buried deep. When her shovel hit wood, she crouched down and started scooping dirt with her hands. Wyatt still didn’t lift a finger.
The cemetery was dead quiet, except for the occasional buzz of insects from the forest. Yunice kept digging, then took a moment to glance over at him. Wyatt was sitting on the grave next to her father’s, leaning back against the headstone. One long leg bent, foot resting on the stone path. Moonlight fell softly over him, casting a cool, lonely glow. His sharply defined face was expressionless; his eyes drifted somewhere far away-or maybe he’d just zoned out completely. He’s probably thinking about his mom, Yunice guessed.
The more open and affectionate she acted, the more likely he was to feel some kind of empathy-some subconscious emotional bond. It was all about planting the seed, she thought smugly, raising her brows. Emotional anchoring. Wyatt might be good with his fists, but I doubt he has the brain for this kind of play.
With a sharp creak, Yunice pried open a corner of Will’s coffin with her crowbar. The sound made Wyatt turn. He watched as she slipped a hand through the narrow gap and pulled out the urn.
Right then, several flashlight beams cut through the night sky in jerky, crisscrossing paths. Voices echoed faintly in the distance. Someone was coming.
As the lights climbed up the hillside, Yunice turned to Wyatt, surprised. “You didn’t bring anyone with you?” She’d assumed he would at least post someone nearby to keep watch.
Wyatt stood, picking up his cane. Yunice quickly stuffed the urn into her pack, slung it over her shoulder, and ran toward the rear slope of the cemetery. His cold voice drifted after her. “You’re just gonna leave me?”
Yunice stopped in her tracks, only now remembering Wyatt couldn’t run fast. She frowned, then sighed, turning back to grab his arm and pull him along with her.
“Stop! Don’t move!” a voice shouted in the dark. She couldn’t make out the face, but the yelling grew closer. Yunice had no interest in getting caught-definitely not in making headlines. So she dragged Wyatt along in a frantic sprint. But Wyatt’s leg slowed them down. He couldn’t keep up, and Yunice ended up pulling him so hard he tripped. When he fell, she went down with him. The two of them tumbled straight into a ditch.
Yunice scrambled to get up, but Wyatt’s large hand clamped down on her head, keeping her down. At that moment, footsteps crunched toward Will’s grave.
Yunice froze the moment she heard someone approaching. Wyatt leaned against the dirt embankment. The moonlight couldn’t reach them here, so they were perfectly hidden.
Yunice’s head rested on Wyatt’s hip. She didn’t dare move because there were dead branches underneath them. The slightest movement would cause a snap. They had no choice but to wait patiently for the person above them to leave. Yunice held her breath and concentrated on the faint rustling above. The movements were subtle, not like someone being followed.
“Dad, I couldn’t sleep, so I came to check on you.”
Yunice’s brow furrowed slightly. That voice-it was Owen. After a moment of silence, Owen added, “Dad, don’t blame Mom for her decision. She suffered a lot in the mountains. Her mind is fragile now. The living are more important than the dead. You wouldn’t want to see the Saunders family torn apart, would you!
I didn’t believe in ghosts or spirits, but ever since I’d agreed to suppress Dad at Lily’s request, I’d been uneasy. That was why I had come in the middle of the night. Even the guard at the gate had seen him and tried to chase me away. With candles and wine in hand, Owen lit the incense. “Dad, I hope you don’t hold a grudge. Everything I did was for the good of the Saunders family.”
Yunice lay on top of Wyatt, his calm heartbeat in her ears, but her own emotions were in turmoil. Her blood was surging. She clenched her fists, almost ready to jump out and fight Owen right then and there. Was he even human! Didn’t he hold a grudge? I had thought he had come to repent at Dad’s grave, but now it seemed he was just looking for comfort for his guilty conscience. Some incense, a bottle of wine, and a pitiful “Dad” were all he needed to feel better?
Whoosh. A breeze blew through the forest. The flame from Owen’s lighter flickered. In the flickering light, Will Saunders’ photo on the gravestone appeared and disappeared. Owen jumped. A second later, the incense he had just lit went out completely. Owen jumped to his feet, his eyes darting around in panic. “Who’s there? Who’s messing with me?”
He wasn’t afraid of ghosts, but his own guilt weighed on him. The more guilty he felt, the more he believed in the supernatural. He stumbled around, looking everywhere. He began to wonder if Lily hadn’t been imagining things. Could there really be a ghost? Was Dad angry about my actions? Had it frightened Mom, and now it was after me?
Crack! Owen wasn’t careful; his foot sank!
His scream echoed through the forest, layer after layer. Yunice rolled her eyes silently, mocking Owen’s so-called anger. When Owen left, Yunice finally sat up from Wyatt. The first thing she did was check her father’s urn. It is perfectly intact. She turned and saw that Wyatt was still sitting on the slope, his custom-made suit now covered in dirt. She quickly reached out to pull him up.
Sometimes I really worried; I’d seen Wyatt in so many unflattering situations. Would he ever get so embarrassed that he’d want to wipe me…
Sure enough, Wyatt shot her a glare and grumbled, “Clumsy.” Yunice quickly dusted the dust off his suit. Wyatt grabbed his cane and used a log to prop himself up as he walked downhill. Yunice followed, slipping a little with each step as they took the back path down from the cemetery. Wyatt called for someone to pick them up.
Jordan’s car was parked across the street from the cemetery. He quickly drove over. From a few feet away, he could see the two of them standing by the mountain road. The tall one stood erect in front. The smaller one had a large backpack and reached up from behind to touch the tall one’s head.
“?” Jordan stepped on the gas and charged forward. Just then, as if sensing it, Wyatt suddenly reached up and grabbed the mischievous hand on his head. He turned and gave Yunice a sharp look. Yunice said, “There’s a bird feather on your head…”
Screeching. Jordan’s car came to a stop. The tires left black marks on the ground. He jumped out. “A man’s head is off limits. A woman’s waist is untouchable,” Jordan teased, smirking at Yunice. “You’re asking for trouble-
Wyatt brushed the feather from his head. Yunice rolled her eyes. So fussy. Wait.
Yunice looked at Wyatt again. There was another reason why men’s heads shouldn’t be touched. A man’s head and a woman’s mottare are off-limits unless they’re a couple. Yunice raised her eyebrows at the other feather in Wyatt’s hair. Who exactly is he staying chaste for? Was it the women who had been thrown out of the mansion the other day?
Wyatt stooped and got into the car. Jordan glanced at Yunice. She clutched her backpack and stared at the mountain road. Hardly any cars passed the cemetery this late at night. So she got into Jordan’s car and sat in the back seat with Wyatt.