This is quite an interesting prompt and at this point of time I have no idea what I'll be writing next.
Guess you will have to continue reading to find out what I finally made out of this one. :)
The Invisible Hand
"You will need to come this time, Mrs. Sky. Please don't deny." the fifty year old manger who has been handling everything for the last twenty eight years pleaded.
Shaking her head, the woman dressed in peach colored cotton replied. "You know I cannot come, Rick. We've had this discussion before." Her voice was as soft music.
"I know, Mrs. Sky. But it has been a long time. You have been doing so much to the organisations. They need to know who's helping them throughout." Rick implored.
With a sigh, she stood and walked towards the window. She seems so fragile since the last time I saw her, Rick thought. He was concerned for her.
"No. You will represent me as always. Things will be better this way. And don't argue Rick." she declared.
Rick knew it was useless to talk to her. So he inquired about her health instead. "You look pale, Mrs. Sky. Are you sure you are feeling well?" he asked his voice filled with concern.
She smiled and patted his head. "I am fine, for my age. You can hardly expect me to be looking pink as an apple at eighty. Susie here takes very good care of me and I listen to her, even if I don't like it sometimes." Grinning, Rick asked her to take care of herself and left.
Mrs. Sky sat on the window sill, overlooking the lake. This lake had pale green water, the color of her husband's eyes. How she missed him! It has been thirty years since he died, on that fateful evening which changed her life forever.
The woman who was the center of attraction in any event now lived as a recluse with her only maid and caretaker. Her eyes blurred as the incidents played in front of her eyes.
It was their wedding anniversary and they chose to host a huge party in their country house. The media was excited about the party and gave their viewers regular updates. Her husband was city's top business magnet, after all. The party was in full swing and the guests were enjoying when there was a sudden blackout.
Screams were heard and in less than three minutes, the lights were back. But it was too late by then. Her husband lay in pool of blood with a knife stuck in his ribs. There was chaos and everything seemed to move in slow motion.
He was rushed to the hospital but the media and paparazzi instead of helping them only delayed their progress. The doctors pronounced him dead and her life shattered.
Two days later the press meet after his funeral was the last time she faced the camera. She announced that she forgave the killers for their act but the law would take its course. What else could she say when the very people who worked her husband killed him because of a misunderstanding. She packed her stuff and vanished, to live in this secret house which no one knew about. It was the wedding gift form her husband.
She continued his works, his charities, appointed trustworthy people to handle stuff and keep her updated. She funded numerous start ups, donated to various organisations, would never go back to the normal world, she vowed. The media searched for her and gradually forgot her for which she was eternally grateful.
Only that day if they came here instead of throwing a party, he would have been alive, she thought as she wiped a tear.
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