As Nurse Sarah determined she needed to call Daisy Lunaire with some very important information, a whimsical thought stirred in her mind. She dialed the number with shaking hands. When she answered, Sarah got right to the point.
"I know that we can't trust each other, Daisy. However, Lawrenz left a farewell letter that says he needs to end what he started. Nick will never stop; his sanity must be cured, Daisy. Please, your husband must stop, or else both of them will die because of that unopened box."
I'm tired, Sarah," Daisy sighed, in a voice laden with exhaustion. "I can't stop everything. I have no power and no control to tell them to stop," she said, wearied. "If there is someone we should ask this.. ."
"Someone, it could be you—Dr. Angelo! And he, too, is restraining himself," Nurse Sarah replied in response as her frown grew deeper at the remembrance of Lawrenz being all alone.
Across town, Angela Hazel Park was having a heated debate with her father in a fancy living room. All around them were expensive antiques and modern art. It smelled of money with the plush velvet furniture, Intricate chandeliers adorning the ceiling, and exquisite marble floors that gleamed under dimmed lighting.
"Father, everyone is after that box," Angela said exasperatedly. Her eyes strayed towards the grand piano seated at the corner, evidence of their lavish lifestyle, but it seemed so incongruous at this moment of turmoil.
"Angela, let them be mad," her father replied indifferently; his tone was one of dismissal as he flipped through a financial newspaper.
Angela went determinedly to Dr. Angelo's office, which was located at the posh end of the city. His office had an ambience of old-world charm, enhanced by dark wooden panels, leather-bound books, and ultra-modern medical equipment. Without an appointment, she barged into the office, her high heels clicking on the polished hardwood floor.
"Hi, I'm Angela Hazel Park," she introduced herself, her voice slightly echoing in the spacious office.
Dr. Angelo looked up from his desk, his face a picture of curiosity mixed with annoyance. "I'm Dr. Angelo. Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but you are Lawrenz's doctor. I need to know what happened to him. He was asleep for almost a decade," Angela bit sharply. She skimmed the room, taking in the plush rugs, the expensive artwork, and the large mahogany desk that ruled the room's center. "Before you got a license, you were paid as a fake doctor.
Dr. Angelo's countenance darkened. "You shouldn't be asking me about that. I studied to be a doctor."
"But you are the one who wants to end his life, Angelo. Dr. Angelo," she said, heavy with sarcasm. "Where is Nurse Sarah?"
"She is with Lawrenz," he replied, focusing on his work again by flipping over some medical cases. "Just leave if you are asking futile questions."
"Save him this time," Angela pleaded with her voice. "Since he is the only one who can open the box, his life is in detrimental danger. Save him, for you know he is an innocent man."
"Talk to Daisy," Dr. Angelo said, looking back down at the medical files spread across his desk.
"No, Angela, Daisy has already surrendered. She is no longer fighting for him."
Angela huffed, her eyes roving across the plush office suite with walnut furniture, artwork worth a million bucks in detail, and luxurious accents. The very contrast between this frowned-upon wealth, standing in juxtaposition against the dire situation Lawrenz was in, had gotten her all the more resolute.
She stepped into the evening, right from the doorway of Dr. Angelo's office, her mind racing with ideas and possibilities. The sky outdoors splashed orange and pink shades in stark contrast to what was inside her boiling. The final rays of the sun sprawled across the city, outlining one more time when the contrast between the luminescent skyscrapers and gritty streets lasted. She knew she needed to help Lawrenz with every ounce of energy she could muster and do something—anything—to help her. All of this opulence fueled that resolve. Unfortunately, she felt so powerless about helping the one person who really needed it, surrounded by symbols of power and wealth.
More broadly, Angela realized that no amount of money or luxury could solve deep-seated issues that had driven Nick to madness and danger associated with the box left unopened. She knew that really big fight was just about to ensue, one that would test her resolve, daring courage, and her very humanity. She stood prepared to meet it head-on—for Lawrenz and for the truth locked up in the enigmatic box.
Lawrenz lay in a heap among refuse in a foul-smelling alley, the stench of decaying matter hitting his nostrils. He stumbled to his feet, his body feeling enfeebled, bruised from that harsh encounter. How he had come to this place replayed in his mind like a record on repeat, these painful memories playing in his head along with reality. His clothes were in tatters, and his crisp suit was now smudged with filth. He looked around at the Cantonese characters on the signs and in the newspapers that were all over the ground around him. He was in Macau—this opulent city west of Hong Kong, known for its ostentatiously glitzy casinos and premier hotels.
They had thrown him out with the garbage, so now he was left to his own devices in a strange land. Despair pressed down on Lawrenz like a weight. He was hungry and frail, and he felt so alone. "Where's my phone?" he muttered, patting down his pockets once more. There was nothing but cloth.
As he got up, he knew then that this was just the beginning. He looked ahead and saw a path he had never walked before: hazardous and full of uncertainty. He remembered the box, as it had been the source of all his misfortune, and cursed its arrival in his life. "What did I do to deserve this?" he screamed toward the empty alley, the echo of his voice bounding back against dirty walls.
Wiping the blood off his lips, he squared his shoulders. He needed a place to rest, some food, and a way to get in touch with someone to get hold of aid. As night began to fall, neon lights flickered across the city, casting an eerie glow across the streets. The glamorous casinos and posh boutiques couldn't be farther away from the squalor he found himself in.
But Lawrenz had to keep pressing on—to survive. The battle was far from being over, and he readied himself for the next day that would come his way, with renewed hope: that one day, he would unravel the mystery of the box and take his life back.
A tall man saw a mendicant rummaging for food in the dimly lit alleyway. Garbage and decaying smell filled the air as the noises from the city, a little more distant, sounded. He approached cautiously, noticing how desperate the beggar really was.
"Here, man!" He passed his drink—he had bought one for himself but had not touched it. The beggar, Lawrenz, gratefully accepted the cup in shaking hands and took a sip.
The tall man screwed up his eyes toward Lawrenz; something there flickered in them—recognition maybe—in his eyes. "You seem very familiar to me, but nah, I was in kindergarten. You just look like him."
The man looked up as a mix of confusion and exhaustion crossed Lawrenz's face.
"Here, I have these eye glasses, although they are not prescribed. Take them so that I can see you clearly," the man gave him the glasses.
Lawrenz took them, then wore them, but stayed silent while the man talked on.
"Nah, he was so fat, wearing clothes not suitable for him. But you're not fat, so he must be somebody else. And you're the very first beggar I've ever seen here in Macau. Good luck, my friend."
"Karson," at last, Lawrenz spoke. The voice was hard to hear.
Karson's eyes became wide. "How did you know my name?"
"Help me," Lawrenz begged before falling to the ground—he was too weak to stand anymore.
Karson locked his eyes on those of Lawrenz in a mixture of confusion and concern. "This man binds me with obligation! Well!" he muttered under his breath, his will beginning to harden.
Karson leaned down and hefted Lawrenz up—surprisingly light and thin. Still, with the lights of the city elongating his shadow, he carried Lawrenz down the street; neon lights danced across the wet pavement. They moved past palatial casinos and boutiques, making clear their own contrast to that in such dire condition.
Karson took Lawrenz to his apartment, a small but cozy place compared to the high life in Macau. He placed Lawrenz on the couch and hurriedly got first-aid essentials and food.
"Drink this," Karson said, alive with urgency, as he proffered Lawrenz a sandwich with a bottle of water. Lawrenz ate slowly as strength returned to his body.
"Thanks," said Lawrenz, his voice still weak but in an attitude of gratitude.
He sat opposite Karson, who was studying his face. "So, you know me. How?"
Lawrenz blew a breath to try and bundle together his thoughts. "We went to the same kindergarten. I remember you, though it was eons ago. Thought I'd never run into you here."
Karson's expression softened. "I vaguely remember. You were that quiet kid, always in the corner. But what happened to you? How did you end up like this?"
Lawrenz told his story, from the mysterious box to the treachery of Nick Gregory and the vicious attack that left him like this. Karson listened with growing concern, his eyes locked on every detail.
"You've been through hell," Karson said softly. "But why didn't you reach out to anyone for help?"
Lawrenz shrugged. "I had no one to turn my back on. Everyone either turned against me or deserted me. You're the first person in a long time who's been decent to me."
Karson felt determination wash through him. "We need to get you on your feet. You can't win this alone."
Lawrenz nodded, feeling hope for what seemed like the very first time in eons. "Thank you, Karson. I don't know where I would be without your help."
Karson smiled, trying to reassure her. "We'll sort it out together. First, we will get you well again; then that box and everything that goes with it will be sorted."
They sat in the modest apartment while outside the city of Macau sparkled, which was something quite opposite the darkness that wrapped itself around the life of Lawrenz. He felt rejuvenated to stand against whatever lay before him now, with the help of Karson.