Finn seemed to have a sudden realization. He got up, took a shower, shaved off his beard, and changed into clean clothes before heading downstairs.
Downstairs, the servants were attending to the two children, Lorelei and Ethan, who were crying again. The two children were no longer sleeping in their incubators; the blush of their newborn cheeks had faded, revealing their fair skin and features that were becoming more defined. Lorelei looked particularly like Aoife, with eyes that were red from crying, just like a rabbit’s.
Due to a recent fever, the two children had trouble sleeping and were lacking in nutrition, failing to meet the weight standards. Finn walked over and took the two children from the arms of the servants, holding one in each arm.
The infants were too small, with their bodies exuding a milky fragrance. Finn held them gently, careful not to exert too much pressure, and after a few stiff minutes, he set them back down.
“I’ll go and pick up Aoife’s ashes.”
Linda thought he was still lost in a world where Aoife was still alive.
“Mr. Snearl, you…” Linda sighed. “Miss Powell, she’s already…”
“I know she’s dead,” Finn’s hoarse voice interrupted Linda before she could finish. “I know she’s never coming back, I know I drove her to her death, I know she abandoned the two children and didn’t want me…”
Truth be told, he knew everything. Even if he didn’t admit it, he knew that Aoife was no longer in this world, just like the Aoife from his past life who had disappeared after her twentieth birthday.
Aoife was stubborn and loved for a long time. She had crashed into the proverbial wall and died, leaving Finn behind.
Finn brought back Aoife’s ashes; the Aoife he used to hold while star-gazing and moon-watching was now a handful of ashes, ready to disperse with the wind.
He placed the urn on the bedside table and picked a handful of baby’s breath from the yard, placing it beside the urn.
The entire room felt empty, as if it had lost its vitality. From the ceiling to the floor, from the furniture to the decorations, Finn’s gaze swept across the room, feeling Aoife’s presence everywhere.
After bringing back Aoife’s ashes, Finn became a different person. He no longer locked himself in his room, torturing himself. He started coming downstairs, eating and sleeping on time. If he couldn’t sleep, he would take sleeping pills. He took care of the two children’s well-being.
Seeing him emerge from his shell, Linda felt relieved and began teaching him how to hold the children, to mix and feed them milk, to understand their cries, and how to put them to sleep, change their diapers, and handle regurgitation.
The usually smart Finn suddenly seemed clumsy; it took him a while to learn. He hesitated while holding the children and feeding them from the bottle, feeling stiff like a wooden stake.
Linda comforted him, “It’s normal at first. You’ll get the hang of it.”
Having learned how to feed the children, Finn started to learn how to soothe them, change diapers, still fumbling around, but as Linda had said, he would get better with practice.
Watching Finn gingerly bathe the children, Linda felt like crying again. When a person gets older, they inevitably reminisce about those who have passed away.
Finn took care of the two children with renewed spirit and motivation, but only he knew that his heart was growing increasingly numb.
After Aoife’s death, he developed hysteria. Occasionally, he felt Aoife’s presence beside him and the only way to treat the condition was to keep taking medication that would prevent hallucinations.
Finn didn’t want to take the medication, yet he had to. Sometimes, he wanted to indulge himself and stop the pills so that he could ‘see’ Aoife every day. However, one time, after stopping the medication, he found himself alone in a bathtub full of water, holding a knife. After cutting his wrist and feeling the pain, he gradually snapped out of it.
Realizing that he was having an episode, he knew he couldn’t die, not now.
Finn loosely bandaged his wrist, the cut was shallow and applying some antiseptic powder and a bandage stopped the bleeding, albeit painful. He couldn’t hold the children for some time because of his injury.
The household staff looked at him with worry, but Finn’s first instinct was to hold the urn on the bedside table, apologizing to Aoife. He hadn’t intended to ignore her wishes and attempt suicide, it was his illness, the lack of control over his mind.
“I’m sorry, Aoife. I didn’t mean to. I know you dislike me, but don’t worry, I won’t die. I won’t disturb you at this time. I’ll take care of our children and let them grow up well. Please don’t be angry…”
The villa would undergo a thorough cleaning from time to time. One day, while Linda was tidying up, she found a cellphone under the sofa, covered in dust, though it was unclear when it had fallen there.
Turning on the phone revealed no password protection, and the first thing that came up was a recording.
The phone interface was clean, with all the applications neatly arranged. There was just one lonely audio file in the middle, hard to miss.
Linda clicked on it and heard Aoife’s soothing voice singing a lullaby; a song she used to sing to the children.
“The dark sky looms low, adorned with bright stars… insects fly… insects fly, who are you missing…”
Linda’s eyes welled up at the familiar melody. Just then, the sound of crying children came from downstairs. Finn had a wrist injury and couldn’t pick them up, so he gently rocked the crib to soothe them.
In a rush, Linda went downstairs with the phone, turning the volume up to its peak. The familiar voice of their mother reached the ears of the two children who, not long ago, were crying and refusing to sleep. Gradually, they calmed down upon hearing their mother’s voice.
Despite Aoife’s passing a month ago, the two children still remembered her voice.
No one knew when Aoife had recorded the song. As Finn listened to the familiar voice of his beloved, tears streamed down his face.
Upon learning of Aoife’s death, his heart felt like it was being ripped apart. He had hoped the pain would diminish with time and that he would be able to endure any further suffering.
But the ache only grew, intensifying with each passing day. Returning to familiar places, doing familiar things, yet missing a familiar presence, it was bearable initially. However, one day, when you suddenly hear the voice of the one you long for, emotions spiral out of control. Perhaps that’s what they meant by ‘triggered sentiments.’
A hollow feeling echoed in his chest. Though alive, he felt like a mere shell, unloved, uncared for, unheard by others, unable to share, drowning in an endless cycle of sorrow.
The recording lasted fifteen minutes, with ten minutes of singing and the remaining five minutes in silence. Just as Linda prepared to turn off the phone, Aoife’s voice came through again but this time, devoid of any tenderness, her tone icy and emotionless.
“Finn, here’s what I have to say to you next…”