The blare of the alarm clock began to ring, its grating melody reverberating through the dimly lit bedroom. The sheets were flung to the floor as Alice swung a leg out of bed, intending to rise, but like every morning, it was never that simple. A heavy, bored sigh filled the room, and her attempts to wake up ceased.

An hour later, Alice awoke to the persistent ringing of her cell phone on the nightstand. She glanced at the clock and gasped in shock, practically leaping from the bed and dashing to the bathroom for a quick shower.

After completing her morning routine, Alice returned to her bedroom wrapped in a towel, finally answering the insistent phone.

Alice📱 - Hello!

Tom 📱 - Well, better late than never! I thought you were dead. I was about to call the firefighters or an ambulance.

Alice 📱 - Very funny! I just overslept, that's all.

She opened her closet and selected a pair of jeans and a basic T-shirt, tossing them onto the bed before grabbing a comb to brush her damp hair.

Tom 📱 - It's not just oversleeping, Alice. This has been going on for, what, four or five months now?

Alice 📱 - Are you giving me a lecture? You sound just like my dad.

Laughter echoed from the other end of the line.

Tom 📱 - I'm just curious about what keeps you up at night.

Alice 📱 - Well, I guess you'll never find out! (laughs)

Tom 📱 - Don't underestimate the detective in me.

Dropping the towel onto a chair, she swiftly dressed, stuffed books into her bag, slipped on her sneakers, and left the room heading for the kitchen. Grabbing an apple, she soon exited her apartment, hurrying down the stairs.

Alice 📱 - By the way, did you read today's newspaper?

Tom 📱 - You know I don't read the paper.

Exiting the building, she approached an old jeep parked by the curb, opened the door with a smile.

Alice - Maybe you should start!

Tom glanced at her and hung up the phone. He started the car, and Alice got in, fastening her seatbelt.

Tom - Once again, YOU'RE LATE!

Alice - We'll be even later if you don't step on the gas.

He rolled his eyes and drove off towards the university where they both studied in different programs. Alice donned her sunglasses to conceal dark circles and rested her head against the car window.

Alice Ross, 22, a psychology student at Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts, had lived alone for about three years, though she would visit her family in another city during the holidays. She also kept her nocturnal job a secret, often losing sleep as a result.

Upon arrival at the university, Tom parked the car, and they rushed to their respective classes.

Tom - See you at lunch!

Alice - Sure!

They split at the stairs, with Alice running up to the third floor, arriving nearly out of breath. The long, deserted hallway spread out before her.

Alice - Darn, darn...

She murmured complaints under her breath as she approached the classroom door and opened it. Everyone, including the professor leaning against the desk holding a book, turned to stare.

Brandon - It seems tardiness is a part of your routine.

Swallowing her embarrassment as some students snickered in the back, she apologized.

Alice - Sorry, professor. I promise it won't happen again.

Brandon - I'm sure it won't, because next time, you won't be attending my class.

He looked over his glasses, closed the book, and gestured to a vacant seat in the back.

Brandon - Please, take a seat.

She nodded, walking past rows of chairs under the watchful eyes of others until finally sitting down.

Brandon - Next week, as you all know, exams start, and that's when things get serious.

Girl - Oh no, professor! I'm sure I'll screw up.

Brandon - Not if you study.

The relaxed smiles of the students contrasted with Alice's focus as she took out her notebook and laptop, turning her attention to the professor. She secretly harbored an unrequited crush on Brandon, a man who made many women breathless—not that she wasn't among them.

She knew her love was impossible, that he would never see her that way. He never gave any student leeway, partly due to ethics and partly because Brandon was engaged to another faculty member, with rumors of marriage within a week.

Alice - I have to get him out of my head; he'll never look at me, never!

Her fatigue from sleepless nights grew heavier, with her eyelids drooping. The professor's voice grew distant as her vision blurred and her head eventually drooped onto her arms atop the laptop.

Later, Alice awoke feeling groggy and warm. Lifting her head, she was stunned to find the classroom empty.

Alice - Oh no!

She lamented having fallen asleep during the lecture again, cursed under her breath, and noticed a white note on her desk.

Brandon 📄 - "Upon waking, please see me in the psychology department office."

Frustrated, she crumpled the note, packed her laptop, and exited swiftly, the halls now silent except for the janitor tidying up.

Janitor - Good afternoon!

Alice - Good afternoon?

Checking the time, she realized it was late in the day.

Alice - Darn it!

Janitor - Trouble?

Pausing, she looked at the man, bewildered by the time she'd slept.

Alice - Yeah, good afternoon.

She resumed her walk, descending the staircase.

Brandon stood by the window overlooking the external area, parting the curtains slightly with his fingers and leaning closer, a half smile on his face as he watched some students enjoying a game of ball on the lawn.

Brandon Ramsey was 33 years old. Heir to a pharmaceutical industry, a publicly traded company. A practicing psychiatrist and psychologist, he also taught psychology at Harvard University, one of the world's most prestigious. Despite his substantial wealth as a millionaire from the family business that had been passed down from generation to generation, he hadn't closely followed his father's footsteps, choosing his own profession for the love of the work. Currently, his father, Josef Ramsey, was severely ill.

"Hello!"

A strikingly seductive female voice called out, diverting his attention to the door.

Brandon - Are you leaving already, Nina?

He closed the distance to his fiancee and gave her a peck on the lips.

Nina - Yes, I was hoping we could go together. Do you have your car?

Brandon - No, I took the motorcycle!

She placed her hands on his face and stroked his cheeks.

Nina - I hate it when you ride the motorcycle, you know that, right?

Brandon - Yes, I do! (Laughs)

They came together for another quick and rather formal kiss, given that they were in a workplace setting.

Nina - Dinner tonight?

She whispered in a faintly alluring voice.

Brandon - I'm not sure; my father's condition has worsened, and...

He paused, swallowing thickly.

Nina - Oh, my dear!

Brandon - It's getting worse every day... I just don't know what to do anymore.

Nina - I think his time may be coming.

He looked at her, frowning.

Brandon - What did you say?

She cleared her throat awkwardly.

Nina - I mean... your father...

He cut her off.

Brandon - Don't.

Disappointed with where the conversation had gone, Brandon turned away and went back to the window, folding his arms and closing his eyes.

Nina - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.

Brandon - You didn't say anything wrong. I still have hope, or at least I want to believe.

Nina took a few steps towards him and embraced him from behind as a gesture of affection and consolation.

Brandon - I'll stop by your place after visiting him.

Nina - I'll prepare something amazing for dinner; you'll love our evening.

Just then, they parted as they heard knocks at the door. Brandon called for the person to enter, and a flustered Alice entered, clutching a crumpled note in her hand.

Alice - Sorry, it's just that I... well...

Brandon - Yes, I wanted to see you here after class.

Alice glanced at Nina, who taught a different course, and the two women locked eyes for several long seconds.

Nina - I should get going.

Brandon - Okay.

She opened the door and left, leaving the two of them alone.

Alice - I'm here, Professor.

Brandon - I see that!

He pulled out a chair, sat down, and crossed his legs.

Brandon - So?

Alice - I...

Unable to speak, she simply shook her head in denial, looked away, then back at the window.

Brandon - What's going on? This isn't the first time you've been late to my class and fallen asleep during it.

Alice - I generally don't sleep well at night, Professor; it's complicated.

He put his hand under his chin and turned the chair slightly to the side.

Brandon - Next year, you're moving onto your final year, but I'm not sure you'll make it, considering the drastic drop in your grades.

Alice - I work nights, that's why I sometimes fall asleep.

She sighed; he pursed his lips, more interested now, but Alice didn't continue.

Brandon - Working nights? And...

Alice - I promise I'll improve; it's just a phase!

He was about to inquire further but realized Alice was reluctant to delve deeper.

Brandon - You may leave.

Alice - Until tomorrow.

He didn't reply verbally, only nodded, and Alice left the room and the institution. She walked across the lawn and sat beneath a tree, folding her legs and staring into the void. A car honk drew her attention; she looked ahead and saw her friend waiting in the parked car.

Tom - Are you going to keep daydreaming about the psychology professor or are you getting in the car so we can grab something to eat?

Her eyes widened, and she quickly got up to meet him.

Alice - Have you lost your mind?

Tom - What? I was only speaking the truth!

Alice - Stop!

She circled around and got into the car.

Alice - I knew I couldn't trust you.

Tom - Relax, girl. There was no one around.

Alice - Damn!

She threw her bag down between her legs and scowled, gazing out the window, tears welling in her eyes.

Tom - Come on, Alice! I was joking; you know that.

She shrugged, blinked away her tears, and allowed a few lone drops to slide down her rosy, sweet cheeks.

Tom - Sorry!

Alice - It's alright.

She wiped away the tears with her fingers and managed a small, awkward smile.

Alice - Let's go eat; I'm starving.

Tom - Burger?

Alice - Sure, that works!

They headed to a well-known fast food joint, queued up at the drive-thru, and ordered their meals to go for enjoying at home.

...

Night had fallen as Brandon parked his motorcycle in front of a massive and luxurious mansion. He removed his helmet and stared intently at the gates before bowing his head in subtle frustration. As the gates opened and a smiling security guard appeared.

"Sir!"

Brandon - Good evening!

Security Guard - Coming in, sir?

Brandon - Yes, I will!

Revving the engine, he rode into the mansion, past the vast gardens, around the pool area, and up to the main entrance. He surveyed his surroundings before dismounting the bike, ascended the steps, and entered the mansion with a sense of impatience, where he was greeted by an elderly employee who had been living there for years.

Antonieta - Son, it's so good to see you!

She exclaimed, a joyous look on her face.

Brandon - How are you?

He embraced her and kissed the top of her head with affection.

Antonieta - I'm not doing too well, your father... he...

Her voice trailed off as Brandon felt her tears dampen his shirt.

Brandon - I'm going to see him.

Antonieta - The nurse is with him in his room.

He glanced at the stairs, pursed his lips, and ascended the steps without much hurry; he didn't want to see his father in such a dire, terminal state. It was more than painful; it was bordering on unbearable.

Upon entering the room, Brandon halts, closing his eyes and dropping his head once more after witnessing the somber sight of his father lying in that bed. A nurse sat in a cozy armchair nearby, reading a magazine by the dim light of a lamp, just bright enough for her to read.

Nurse - Mister!

She exclaimed, suddenly standing and placing the magazine aside.

Brandon - How is he?

He approached the bed, eyeing the medications on the nightstand, attempting to read each label despite a struggle without his prescription glasses, squinting slightly to decipher the tiny print.

Nurse - The doctor just left, well...

He turned, looking at the woman who stood by the window, her arms stretched out in front of her, somewhat withdrawn.

Brandon - Let's step outside for a bit.

She nodded in agreement, and they both left the room to speak in the hospital wing's hallway.

Brandon - Well?

Nurse - Your father is in his final hours, sir. The dementia only worsens his health condition, I'm afraid.

Brandon - No, no!

He brought his hands to his head and walked to the middle of the hallway, stopping to lean his forehead against the wall in a mix of defeat and disappointment, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through his head and body.

Brandon - Call his doctor. I want him to come back to talk to me.

Nurse - But the doctor just left.

He looked at her.

Brandon - No matter, call him and ask him to come here now.

Nurse - Yes, sir!

He walked back to the room and gripped the doorknob, pausing for a few seconds in thought.

Brandon - I'm going to stay with him. I need some time alone with my father.

Nurse - Oh, of course! I won't interrupt your moment.

He pursed his lips together and entered, gently closing the door behind him and walking slowly to the bed, where he knelt and took his father's hand.

Brandon - Dad...

Despite Brandon's efforts to stay strong, he was merely encased in a shell of his true emotions. Inside, his body ached and trembled as though stabbed a thousand times in the stomach. It felt like everything was slipping from his control, yet his composure was something even he envied.

Brandon - I miss our late-night garden talks, always over a mug of chamomile tea.

A deep sigh escaped him, and a tear rolled down his cheek, tracing a path to his neck.

Brandon - I remember how mom would scold us for staying up so late, watching from the porch, shaking her head, then joining us.

A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth as he reminisced, glancing again at his father whose eyes remained closed, his breathing so faint Brandon could feel it against his face.

Brandon - How I wish you could understand me. The hardest part for me is your forgetfulness.

Suddenly, Brandon felt his father squeeze his hand. Eyes widening in surprise, he watched as his father slowly opened his eyes.

Brandon - Dad, can you understand me?

With an extremely weak and weary voice, Josef tried to form a word, his lips struggling.

Josef - Your mother...

His father's gaze wandered aimlessly around the room.

Brandon - What did you say, Dad?

Josef - Your mother looks so... so beautiful today.

Brandon found his father's words strange, given that his mother had passed away years ago.

Josef - She's beautiful!

The man continued to stare into the void, prompting Brandon to follow his father's gaze, though he saw nothing.

Brandon - He's hallucinating!

He thought to himself.

Josef - Take care, my son. People... aren't always who they seem to be.

His father spoke with great difficulty, gasping for air.

Brandon - Do you recognize me?

Josef was now looking directly into Brandon's eyes.

Josef - Yes, my son, Brandon!

With those words came the last deep breath as Brandon clutched his father's hand, unable to contain his emotions, knowing his father had passed away.

Brandon - My God, Dad!

Still kneeling by the bed, Brandon rested his face against his father's chest, crying from the pain of loss, the longing that would eat away at him, and weeping because his father's suffering was no more. This marked the end for the great entrepreneur, Josef Ramsey.

There were knocks at the door, and his father's devoted employee of many years entered, holding a silver tray with a glass of water. But upon realizing that the good boss had died, Antonieta couldn't contain her emotions.

Antonieta - Oh, no!

Startled, she dropped the tray, which clattered to the floor, the sound of silverware and breaking glass echoing. Overwhelmed, Antonieta collapsed onto the rough carpet, supported by the nurse.

The doctor arrived in a hurry, entering the room and stopping short at the sight of Brandon kneeling by the bed with his face laid on his father's chest. He simply mourned, knowing that Josef's death could come at any moment.

Brandon - Did I do the right thing?

Doctor - Yes! It was your father's last request to die at home.

Brandon - Before dementia took its full hold, he always said he didn't want to die in a hospital, made me promise.

The doctor approached, patting Brandon's shoulder in consolation.

Brandon - We knew this would happen; I just didn't want to accept it.

He chose not to mention his father's last moments of recognition, preferring to hold that memory close. The doctor signed the death certificate and began handling some bureaucratic matters. Soon, the family lawyer arrived along with Nina.

The night was unbearably painful for Brandon, who after spending substantial time beside his father's body, finally left the room to be alone in the garden, trying to gather his thoughts for the long night ahead.