ANGELA HAZEL PARK'S POINT OF VIEW
Shadowy, yet agreeable, the presence of Mr. Reigh, my permanent guard, had been becomes a fixture in my life. One afternoon, I couldn't shake off the mystery surrounding Nick Gregory. "Mr. Reigh, have you heard anything about Nick Gregory?" I demanded, familiar with his knack for digging out the most elusive piece of information.
"Nothing concrete, ma'am," he said. "I haven't come across anything concrete, ma'am. Shall I open an investigation?" This was always cautiously calm.
"There are murmurs linking him to Lawrenz, but unless Lawrenz himself is willing to discuss it with me, I'm not particularly interested," I said, sipping my juice nonchalantly. "Though I would appreciate it if memories of Nick Gregory from our grade school Days could be refreshed. After sixth grade, I went abroad for my studies, and we lost touch."
"I'll get what is available on Nick Gregory for you, ma'am," Mr. Reigh said before he turned and left as quietly as possible, allowing me to be alone with my thoughts again, which incredibly kept drifting back to the box.
Later that afternoon, I stopped by my father's office. His smile, as it always was, was warm as he welcomed me to a matching degree. "Dad, I need to talk to you about something," I started slowly.
"Is it good news or bad news?" The tone he used was cheery, very much his own self—the essence of his caring nature.
"Well, neither news nor bad news. It's about a box," I confessed, feeling a slight nervous flutter.
"A box of chocolates, candies, or perhaps shoes?" He teased lightly to lighten the mood.
"No, it is a box with kryptonite on it. What does it mean?" I admitted.
Ah, that box," my father chuckled. "It's almost mythical, like Pandora's box. I used to have it, but I could never figure it out, so I gave it to Tybalt, hoping perhaps you could finally crack it open."
"You had it?" I was surprised. "I always thought Tybalt inherited it."
"Tybalt is a dear friend, but I gave it to him. He's wealthy, though I didn't know he'd lost interest in unlocking it. I left it in his hands, telling him it was now up to you," my father explained.
"Who gave you the box, Dad?" Curiosity now fully ignited within me.
"It was a mysterious gift presented to me on my 21st birthday. The kryptonite atop baffled me, and no matter how hard I tried, I never cracked that code," my father remembered with a degree of amusement.
"I'm not particularly fascinated by it either, but I'm assisting one of Tybalt's sons in securing it," I contributed, at which my father's face turned serious.
"A son of Tybalt's, eh? Angela, don't waste your time on that box. I spent two years of my life in its pursuit—without avail. I will not meddle further. Now, I must be keeping an appointment," he said, starting to his feet. I bothered him with no further ceremonies than a respectful good morning as he left me to the undisturbed possession of the mysterious box and the flood of dark memories called up by the story of my father's early life.
After some time, Mr. Reigh presented the gathered information regarding Nick Gregory. "Nick Gregory was the son of a well-to-do man who then worked as a janitor at Hera Academy and Hera Hospital. His father was quite well off, with his mother being really poor and working hard for their family. Nick did very well in schools and was admitted to really good schools but worked to take care of himself as well."
"I always thought he was some notorious troublemaker. Impressive, not exactly endearing," I reflected on the convolutions of Nick Gregory's journey.
He wanted to unravel these mysteries—all the mysteries that seemed intertwined with each other. So I went looking for a seasoned private eye who had carved a name for eliciting tough secrets. And dropping my story before him in his line-walled, dust-smelling, faded-photograph-crowded cubbyhole of an office, I began my narrative.
"Ms. Park, what brings you to my humble abode?" The detective greeted me, his eyes sharp and inquisitive, his knowing smile at the forefront.
"I need your help with a very strange riddle about a mysterious box and its influence on everyone it has touched," I replied as I put all the compiled information on his desk.
His expression changed from curiosity to focus as he examined the parchments before him. "Now, here's a most curious case. What can you tell me about this?" he asked, his interest plainly upon the mysterious box and its movements, which brought it into Tybalt's hands.
"It's a box, e_n_kryptonite. Personally, I find it rather uninteresting, but I am interested in understanding how it came into Tybalt's possession," I said, reaching out to unlock secrets hidden within.
"Well then, I have a new challenge to tackle." For all the seasoned investigator's wits, this mystery of an unopened box remained rather a mystery—like almost everything else.
The mystery remained there, years after, floating in front of me, as I queued patiently, bidding for the answer.
Lawrenz Tybalt's health began improving, so I went to see him at Hera Hospital. As I entered Room 202 of Hera Hospital, where Lawrenz was recuperating with Daisy Lunaire by his side, emotions almost came pouring out of my heart.
"Daisy, might I please have a minute or so alone with him?" I asked, knowing she did not want to leave Lawrenz's side.
"Alright, but not more than fifteen minutes," she curtly agreed and stepped outside to let us talk in the privacy of that small room.
"Lawrenz, there's something we have to talk about," I began softly. "It's about a box—a mysterious box that looks deeply connected with the past of your family."
Something in Lawrenz's eyes flickered on, like a sudden recognition of and interest in something. "The box," he muttered wearily. "I've dreamed of it, Angela. In piecings of memories, it is always there."
"Focus on healing, Lawrenz. The past will have to wait," I urged softly, as agitation was quickly building up.
It was at this revelation that Nick Gregory contacted me. "Angela Hazel Park, we have got to meet. There are things that you need to know regarding Lawrenz and the box—things that beg your imagination."
Well, my curiosity piqued, I half-suspectingly accepted his invitation to a turning-point meeting. And there, events were primed for something big—past, present, and fate to merge into a moment when the twisted threads would untangle to reveal what lay inside the mysterious box.
That day finally came when I sat face-to-face with Nick Gregory—a man whose life had inadvertently been merged with that of Lawrenz Tybalt. The heavy, dark atmosphere of the subdued ambiance was prevalent when I met with Nick as he began to weave his tale.
"The box is a curse—leave it to me," he declared, and there I sat, fighting with the weight of those words, trying hard to come to a realization of what they truly meant.