The Quiet End of Us

Henley never came back that night. Instead, Joanna received a message from him.

Henley: [The prosecutors contacted me for an urgent autopsy. I won't be home tonight.]

Henley was a renowned name in his field. Whenever a tricky case arose, people sought his expertise first. Assisting law enforcement was nothing out of the ordinary.

Not long after, there was a knock at the door.

It was a food delivery—a halibut fish stew.

Joanna immediately recognized the restaurant. It was one of their favorites, a place where they often dined together.

The delivery guy, a young man with a bright, cheerful smile, explained, "Your husband asked me to apologize on his behalf. Since he couldn't come home to cook for you, he specially ordered this fish stew for you. He said he'd make it up to you next time."

He added with genuine admiration, "Wow, your husband treats you so well!"

"Does he?" Joanna didn't take the food. Instead, she signed the receipt and handed it back. "I'm not going to eat it. If you don't mind, feel free to take it home for yourself."

That night, Joanna didn't eat a single bite. She sat alone on the couch, staring into the darkness as the hours dragged on until dawn.

When she finally stirred, she found herself sprawled on the floor near the window.

The rain from the night before had left droplets on the sill, pooling into tiny streams.

One of those rivulets had trickled into her open hand, cold and damp.

It seemed she'd passed out from the pain again.

This wasn't the first time.

Late-stage pancreatic cancer brought relentless, piercing, soul-crushing pain. Sometimes, it became so unbearable that the thought of ending it all felt like the only reprieve.

Judging by her position, last night must have been one of those moments. She must have crawled toward the window, considering the jump, but ultimately collapsed before she could act.

With shaky limbs, Joanna propped herself up, realizing her sleeves were soaked and clinging to her skin in an uncomfortably clammy way.

The sensation reminded her of being gnawed by unseen insects, but she couldn't be bothered to care.

Her hands fumbled across the table until she found a bottle of pills.

Without glancing at the label, she poured a handful into her palm and swallowed them dry, tossing the bottle into the trash.

What the pills were didn't matter. How many she took didn’t matter. None of it mattered anymore.

Her phone rang.

She answered, and a young, energetic voice came through. "Professor Noe, the consent forms for your body donation are ready. When you're available, could you come by to finalize the paperwork?"

Joanna agreed.

The worst of the night's agony had passed, and the medication dulled her senses enough for her to function.

She took a taxi and arrived at the hospital shortly thereafter.

The process of donating her body to science wasn't particularly complicated—except for one critical step.

Joanna's student said hesitantly, "Professor Noe… you know that for a body donation, we need a family member's signature. There's only six days left... Professor Zeal..."

"I'll handle him," Joanna replied, slipping the consent forms into her bag.

As she stepped out of the office, she came face-to-face with Henley.

Standing beside him, looking bashfully pleased, was Addison.

The moment their eyes met, Addison shot Joanna a sly, triumphant glance.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Zeal," she greeted with a falsely sweet tone.

Then, almost as if by accident, she adjusted her collar to reveal faint marks on her neck, clear evidence of intimacy.

She mouthed silently, "Do you know how many times he had me last night?"

Henley, in an instant, stepped away from Addison. He put noticeable distance between them and schooled his expression into the distant professionalism he typically displayed, allowing warmth only when he addressed Joanna.

"Ah, Joanna, what are you doing here?" His tone was light, casual—but there was a flicker of panic beneath the surface.

Joanna's gaze flicked briefly to his subconsciously rubbing left hand.

"To find the two of you, of course," she answered.