“Who… who do you say… has died?” A shaky voice came from behind.
Startled, Linda turned around to see Aoife standing on the stairs behind her. Her face was pale, her big black eyes staring emptily with no light in them. She clenched the stair rail tightly, swaying as if she could collapse at any moment.
When a person is engulfed in extreme fear and anxiety, the body is beyond the control of the brain. For a moment, she thought she was dreaming, or perhaps her mind was playing tricks on her, as she was in a state of illusion.
An extreme pressure enveloped her like a dark cloud, freezing her in place. After a moment of silence, she cautiously asked, “Did you just say… someone died?”
She desperately wished it was a problem with her ears, hearing things that weren’t real. The words “Ethan” had never sounded so harsh in her ears, but the reality was harsh.
It was evident that Linda’s daughter was frightened by Aoife’s appearance. She had hesitated to speak but realized that Aoife had acted with Ethan in a TV drama, so she couldn’t keep her in the dark.
Linda sensed trouble brewing and was about to cover her daughter’s mouth when it was too late. The little girl stood up, her eyes red, and told Aoife, “Ethan is dead. Ethan, the one who acted with you in the TV drama, he died! He died on the night of May 30th, and it was reported yesterday…”
With each word she uttered, Aoife trembled uncontrollably. The trembling pain spread throughout her body, even causing her lips to quiver, her breathing erratic.
Gently releasing her grip on the stair rail, she collapsed like her bones had shattered, kneeling on the ground.
Staring at her hands, her eyes filled with panic, like a lost hedgehog with a bewildered look.
How could Ethan be dead? How could this be possible… they had just seen each other the day before, his fingers intertwined with hers as he played “The Wedding in a Dream” on stage for her, looking at her, telling her that he would always be like the stars in the sky.
Why did Ethan die? What did he do wrong? Why did tragedy await him as the outcome?
Why are there so many villains in this world, and good people left without rewards?
Aoife grabbed her head, pulling at her hair forcefully, her body writhing in agony. She leaned against the stair rail, her mouth open in a tortured cry, feeling like her insides were being crushed, about to be vomited out in a mass of pain.
“Ah-” Tears had dried up, yet she continued to cry and scream, wailing for a long time.
Linda was shocked and quickly handed the keys to her daughter, telling her to leave.
Seeing Aoife in a fit of crazed despair, the people in the room gathered around, hesitating to approach her.
The butler called Finn, and even over the phone, he could hear Aoife’s hoarse cries.
Finn hurried back, realizing it had been a while, but Aoife was still crying, to the point where he felt she would cry herself out.
He never anticipated that Aoife’s cries could be so heart-wrenching, as if she could cry out all the pain within her.
Linda took the initiative to confess, “Mr. Snearl, Miss Powell knows about Ethan’s suicide.”
“What happened?”
“It’s my fault, I wasn’t careful…”
Finn’s eyes turned cold for a moment, fleeting, he didn’t blame anyone. The truth always comes out, and he understood this better than anyone else. He just didn’t expect it to happen so quickly. In just one day, Aoife had learned about Ethan’s death, on such a day.
He had planned to make Aoife happy on her birthday this year.
Her body ached, still not fully recovered from illness, her head pounding from the night of cold breezes blowing the sickness into her head. She pulled at her hair roots to relieve the throbbing inside her skull, feeling as though needles were piercing deep into her bones, one more vicious than the next, penetrating almost into her marrow.
She thought to herself, even torture, flaying, or dismemberment would not compare to this.
Finn approached Aoife, his tall figure casting a shadow over her.
Aoife raised her gaze, “Why do those who love me, those I love, meet such tragic ends?”
“Why is this happening?” Aoife struggled to lift her head, gazing up at Finn, who always seemed to look down on her.
Finn knelt down, gently wiping away the tears on her face with a soft handkerchief. “His death isn’t anyone’s fault…”
“Haha…” Aoife cried and laughed at the same time, shaking her head.
Not anyone’s fault? How can it not be someone’s fault? Ethan, so vibrant and full of sunshine, died on his twenty-fourth birthday.
“He was the last person who should’ve died. Such a good person, he had just turned 24 the other day. Finn, do you know? He was still so young. Why did you force him? He wanted to live on… Finn, why isn’t it you who died? Why weren’t you driven mad?”
There are too many questions about the unfairness of this world.
Finn couldn’t find words to respond. He held Aoife close, and she didn’t resist, resting her head against his neck.
Finn was afraid.
With Ethan’s death, he realized how fragile life could be, how the body could give in under the weight of heavy burdens. Like a camel walking through the desert, the heavier the load, the closer it would get to being crushed by the “last straw.”
Aoife’s breakdown, like a taut string, had Finn worried about when that string would snap.
Finn feared Aoife becoming like Ethan.
Finn’s love for Aoife came as a belated realization. There was a saying about falling in love, that it heralded the beginning of suffering, but there were far more contradictory forces in this world than love.
Old Burns often taught them not to get emotionally involved, not to touch emotions, as it would become a weakness, a source of misfortune.
But no life can resist emotion, like two magnets attracting each other. If people could control their feelings, then what would separate them from machines?
He loved Aoife, but time, unforeseen events, and the hatred interwoven between them and Aoife all served as barriers, isolating him from her.
So, no matter how honest he was now about his feelings for Aoife, once the ending was marked by tragedy, any way he loved her became a mistake, even their embrace at that moment seemed to take on a harmful connotation.
Finn knew what to say to Aoife. When a person is overwhelmed with sorrow, all words become like blades in their presence.
Maybe it was best to let her have some peace and calm down. However, Finn didn’t expect Aoife to calm down so quickly. She lay still in his arms…
Until he felt a dampness on his chest, a faint smell of blood seeping out.
Gently releasing his hold on Aoife, she leaned back against him, half of her face covered in blood, her mouth uncontrollably gaping as blood streamed out…