The venue erupted in thunderous applause.
The audience was moved to tears.
"So touching—what a kind sister."
"Not just talented, but a heart of gold."
I wanted to cry too, moved by Rose's words.
Even though Rose used my little snake, she drew it so beautifully and gave it such a lovely name—she really does love me.
The applause went on and on.
I spotted Dad and Mom in the front row below the stage. They sat side by side, dressed impeccably, clapping along with everyone else.
Dad's back was ramrod straight, his face full of pride.
Mom was in tears, overcome with emotion.
After the ceremony ended, they went backstage to find Rose, then drove away together.
I wanted to go home with them, so I followed the car.
Rose looked exhausted. She tossed the trophy aside, and the smile slid off her face.
"When's the deadline for the next batch of designs?" she asked Mom.
Mom turned around, beaming. "End of next month. Rose, the response to 'Eden Garden' was phenomenal. The investors added another five million and want the full series."
Rose's expression soured. She bit her nail. "It's already the end of the month. That's barely four weeks. Way too rushed."
Dad drove, relaxed. "What are you worried about? There's still that lunatic."
Rose's eyes lit up. "Right. Didn't she mention seeing fairies last time? Add a few more elements and we can cobble together a whole series."
Mom nodded. "Perfect. We're free tomorrow—we'll swing by the hospital."
"Didn't you say last time you'd bring her home?" Rose hesitated. "What if she makes a scene about wanting to leave?"
Mom's expression stiffened. She was about to speak when Dad cut in, his voice dripping with disgust. "Bring a lunatic home? The Donaldsons can't afford that kind of embarrassment. Let her rot in there. That's where she belongs."
"As for the drawings—as long as she's still breathing and her hands still work, as long as she draws what we need, that's enough. Don't bother with anything else."
"Good." Rose exhaled. "I just hope there's something decent. Not garbage."
So it turns out that even after death, you can still feel fear. Still feel cold.
I curled myself into the darkest shadow in the farthest corner of the car, apologizing to them over and over.
I'm sorry, Dad. Mom. Rose.
It must have been that when they came to see me last time, monsters took over their bodies.
Because clearly, when they visited before, Rose told me worriedly that as long as we burned the monster away, I would be fine.
Mom cried so hard, promising she'd bring me home to eat braised pork.
Dad was harsh, but I believed he must love me.
He loves Rose so much. I'm his daughter too—how could he not love me?
So they must have been affected by the monster.
I wanted to help drive the monster away.
I wanted to help draw the monster too.
But I'm already dead.
