Almost 2am. It was by no means the latest that Rafeah had ever come home but it was definitely past the threshold where she could leisurely walk into the apartment.
If all went well, Rafeah would not bump into her brother when she opened the door. Otherwise, he was more than likely to be waiting for her, probably nursing a cup of coffee at the kitchen table, acting as though he was their father.
The day the old man died had been a happy day for Rafeah. Her mother probably knew her feelings and the reasons for it. The older woman was ignorant but she was not blind. Ramli, however, was a different animal.
He was ignorant. That was the least cruel thing Rafeah could think about Ramli. It confounded her how blind he had been all through the years. Even two years in national service had not opened his eyes to the twisted reality he lived in. Then again, Rafeah knew that her brother had always been a good son and a faithful follower of the late Mr Rahman. He took the teachings which had been imparted to him very seriously. Ramli was all about preserving traditions, customs, and the old ways. The changing world was an ever present enemy. It was their responsibility to protect themselves from the pernicious influences which threatened to seep through at all times. Corruption could not be allowed to take root.
Ramli saw her as a poor corrupted soul, Rafeah was sure of that. His words and actions had made clear to her that he was intent on perpetuating the way of life their father had enforced while the older man was still living. And soon he would go too far. She was certain of that.
The smell of vodka on her breath reminded her that she did herself no favours with her brother. But she no longer cared. When she started drinking, it was largely to numb the pain. She had convinced Ramli to let her go to university, something their father had specifically forbade for fear of her corruption. Rafeah had taken the opportunity and hit the ground running to continue the reclamation of her life.
She was almost done with her endeavour.
And tonight, she had good reason to celebrate. She licked her lips and was pleased to find that she could still taste some of the alcohol. And if Ramli was still awake when she walked in, then so be it. She was sure that her high would carry her through the ordeal that would ensue. It had before. She ran her hands through her long wavy hair and straightened up her slight frame. Despite herself, she was quite tired.
She entered the code and stepped through the door. There was a stench hanging in the atmosphere reminiscent of the abbatoir she had once visited on a school trip.
Rafeah switched on the lights and walked to the dining table, where she could see a handwritten note weighed down with a ceramic mug. It was Ramli’s handwriting, she could tell that from the curving and leaning scribble. A smile crept upon her lips as she picked up the note to read it
“Mum in hospital. Changi General. Possible heart attack. Come ASAP.”
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