The driver, having descended from the upper floor, was immediately questioned by the butler, “Why did you come down? Where’s Mr. Snearl?”
“I think Mr. Snearl must have lost his mind. He was using a hairdryer to blow Miss Powell’s hair, and kept saying Miss Powell hasn’t died…”
Linda, who was standing nearby, tears welling up again, murmured, “What a tragedy… What will happen to these two children in the future?”
No one had ever anticipated that Aoife would take her own life in such a manner, without any warning signs. For a long time, everyone had witnessed how well Finn treated Aoife.
During Aoife’s difficult days, it was Finn who took care of her, much more meticulously than the housemaids.
No one could fathom why Aoife would choose to end her life, abandoning even her two children. Was she truly so heartless?
But it wasn’t a lack of heart, it was a death of the heart. She didn’t even want her own life anymore.
Finn had indeed been kind to her during her difficult times, but the rift between them couldn’t be filled by just his kindness. She couldn’t get over her own struggles, couldn’t forgive those who had hurt her, and couldn’t allow herself to move on and be with him.
Just as she had once said, if she were to forgive Finn, she would be deserving of punishment, thus she chose death, ending her life in the most cowardly way.
Living was too much of a torment.
In this world, there were always onlookers judging others’ experiences based on their own perspectives. They saw Finn taking care of Aoife and deemed him kind to her. If she didn’t accept it, then she was ungrateful.
But indirectly, it was Finn who drove Aoife to madness, who cruelly ended the life of the child in her womb, who pushed her into depression…
Aoife had always been trapped in her own misery, while Finn had only briefly stumbled. They had grown accustomed to seeing Finn in a superior position, and seeing him fall into the mud so suddenly created a stark contrast that made him seem pitiful. But it was always Aoife who struggled in the mud.
“If Aoife really believed Mr. Snearl was kind to her, she wouldn’t have chosen to take her own life in this way.” Finally, someone spoke the truth, bringing a solemn silence to the room.
The driver asked, “What do we do now?”
“Call the police, let them handle it. We can’t let Mr. Snearl keep holding onto Aoife’s body.”
…
Finn held Aoife, weeping. No one had ever imagined that this cold and heartless man would cry so bitterly, with an air of despair pressing down on him.
For a fleeting moment, he felt like he had returned to his five-year-old self, in a season much like this one, with damp floors, a chaotic bathroom, a bathtub filled with water, and his mother lying quietly inside with a pallid face.
And now, Aoife was the same… They both left him in the most painful way, bidding farewell to this world.
Finn held up the half cup of milk tea, “You were always waiting for me at home, weren’t you? Waiting for me to bring you milk tea, this is your favorite honey pearl milk tea. I usually don’t let you drink it too much for fear of the sugar content, especially when you were pregnant. Now that you’ve given birth, you can have it…”
Finn seemed to be afflicted with hysteria, living in the world he had fashioned for himself. He believed Aoife was only sleeping and hadn’t died.
“Are you mad at me for only bringing back half a cup of milk tea for you? I’m sorry, it was an accident. But you can still drink it, I wiped the cup clean. Let me feed it to you.” Finn tried to find a straw but couldn’t, it might have fallen into the car.
He opened the cup lid and cradled Aoife’s head, attempting to feed her the milk tea, but how could a dead person drink milk tea? It just trickled down her chin.
Finn frantically grabbed tissues to clean Aoife, tears streaming down as he said, “I’m sorry,” apologizing for unintentionally dirtying her.
That night, the two children didn’t have Aoife singing to lull them to sleep, and they were unwilling to rest. Usually well-behaved, they might have sensed their mother’s absence and cried with open mouths, reaching out their little hands, hoping for a mother’s embrace.
The maids were in turmoil, soothing the children, eventually crying themselves tired before finally drifting off to sleep. Their faces were red from crying, even bearing traces of tear stains around their eyes.
That night, the children couldn’t sleep soundly, waking up to cry intermittently, their throats hoarse, even developing a fever. The family doctor came to give them IV drips and injections, which were particularly painful when administered on their heads.
Thankfully, due to the medication’s effects, the two children finally fell asleep.
As for their father, Finn, he lay on the bed holding Aoife, reminiscing about the past.
The next day, the police arrived. Before they even entered the house, Finn drove them away, adamant about not letting them take Aoife away.
Seven days had passed in this embrace, even though the bedroom’s air conditioning was on, Aoife’s scent lingered.
Finn was almost obsessively holding onto Aoife, as if under a spell, speaking to her as if she were merely asleep and not dead.
As autumn approached and the moon was full, Finn princess-carried Aoife to the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling window. He opened all the curtains, allowing the moonlight to spill in and illuminate the outside.
Normally, during autumn, the moon should be large, round, and bright, but this year, the moon was neither round nor bright, lacking its usual radiance.
Finn gazed at the stars filling the sky outside, the moonlight mixing with the lamplight creating a carpet of light, with stars scattered across the sky and ground. On the seventh day of Aoife’s death, the stars bloomed.
It was said that the seventh day after someone’s death was the night of the soul’s return, a time for the departed to visit their past. Would Aoife come back?
Finn looked at Aoife in his arms, “Will you come back? I miss you, can you look at me?”
There was no response.
Suddenly, a violent commotion erupted outside the door. The bolted door was being pounded on so forcefully that it seemed on the verge of collapsing. After half an hour, the door was forced open by the people outside.
A dozen individuals rushed in, including the housemaids, police officers, and a doctor holding a syringe.
They restrained Finn on the ground, his strength having gradually depleted over the seven days. The police easily pinned him down, and Aoife, whom he had been holding, slipped from his grasp.
Finn struggled desperately, “Let me go! Let me go!” He wanted to hold Aoife again, but she had just fallen to the floor, how much pain she must be in.
The people restraining him felt like heavy shackles, preventing him from moving. His face was rubbed raw on the ground, unable to get up, only able to watch as Aoife was carried away. He reached out, “Don’t take her away, please, leave her with me…”
These intruders who had come suddenly said nothing as they took Aoife away, ignoring his pleas. The doctor approached with a syringe, injecting Finn’s arm. With each injection, Finn felt his consciousness slipping away, plunging into darkness.
In this unseen dark world, he dreamed of his past life, remembering how he had always yearned for what he couldn’t have.