She stared out at the dark countryside, waiting for the plane to finally touch down. The last rays of sunshine were breaking through the clouds in the sky, but she knew it was trying to give her hope, make her believe life wasn’t so bad after all.
In Boston, her sick father was waiting for them. And her brother had something he wanted to share with the family, and from the sound of it, it wasn’t good news. She looked across at him, wondering what it was.
Staring at his sleeping body, she realised something was wrong. Slowly, she put her hand on his chest. His heart had stopped beating.
© 2016
9 December 2016, Friday Fictioneers
FELICIA HEILGENDORFF 
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