“Finn, it’s time for me to say something to you…”
Finn was taken aback, then abruptly snatched Linda’s phone from her hand and turned it off, silencing Aoife’s voice.
Linda looked at him puzzledly. “Mr. Snearl, what are you…”
Finn trembled all over, holding the phone in his hands. “Consider it a keepsake, something to keep me going, I’m afraid I won’t be able to continue after hearing it…”
He wanted to hear what Aoife had to say to him more than anyone, but once he heard it, it would be gone. Better to keep it, to have hope to hold on to, his only hope.
“Where did you find the phone?”
“Under the sofa upstairs.”
Aoife stopped being foolish after that and didn’t touch the phone again. The song must have been recorded the day she died.
“Carry on with your work.”
Linda nodded and left.
The two children had already fallen asleep together, the brother still holding the sister’s hand as they slept.
Finn looked at them, realizing that they still found Aoife’s voice familiar. As time passed, they would also forget this voice, forget their mother, forget the person who used to sing lullabies to them by their cribs.
Finn edited the audio in the phone into three parts: a song Aoife sang specifically for the children, a part where she called his name, and a part that was over four minutes long that he hadn’t listened to yet.
Listening to their mother’s lullaby before bedtime had become a habit – three songs in ten minutes before they fell asleep.
Most of the time, Finn listened repeatedly to Aoife calling his name.
“Finn…”
Repeatedly, incessantly, as if she were still by his side.
Word of Aoife’s death slowly spread, and Lily, upon learning, was also greatly surprised. She remembered the day Finn knelt before her, eating garbage, pleading for her to save Aoife.
Lily truly let go, truly wanted Daniel to save Aoife.
Once a person understands and sorts through the events, it becomes clear that throughout it all, Aoife was not at fault – she was the victim.
Did Aoife not want to leave Finn? No, she wanted to leave Finn more than anyone. She did not want to be a third party or a mistress; Finn wouldn’t let her go.
Lily admitted her own mistakes – she had always vented her anger on the weaker ones.
She wanted Daniel to save Aoife simply to make herself feel better, not as a form of compensation. But she never expected Aoife to die.
On the day Finn came to ask for help, she drowned in the water.
Lily suddenly felt a void in her heart. She stared at her hands, feeling a panic she had never felt before.
Aoife’s death was a suicide, not his doing, but her death was also implicated by those around her.
One’s suicide stems from layers of external pressure; enduring it is called growth, failing to endure it is a tragedy.
It was impossible to say Aoife’s death had nothing to do with her. She was involved in this “murder.” If she hadn’t released that video, would Aoife have met this fate?
Unfortunately, it was too late to think about these things now.
Finn was not qualified to hold a funeral for Aoife. He found a suitable day and took her ashes back to their hometown, burying them next to her grandmother’s grave.
Returning here was the first time since last year. Time passed swiftly; the grass on the grave had grown long again. Finn meticulously cleared the weeds from the grave, then buried Aoife’s ashes in a vacant spot.
As the sun set in the west, casting a yellow glow over half the sky, Finn knelt before the grave.
“I’m sorry, I killed your granddaughter. I didn’t take care of her properly.” If Aoife hadn’t met Finn, her life wouldn’t have ended at just twenty-two years.
Kneeling in front of the grave surrounded by stones, dressed in black, his face growing even paler against his attire, his eyes, dead and silent, held a hint of tears as he looked at the three mounds of earth. In the countryside, graves were rarely marked with tombstones; a shallow grave would do, digging a hole to bury the person in a wooden coffin.
Grave markers cost a lot of money, and few in the village would prepare them for the deceased.
Finn thought he had cried all his tears, but as he looked at the three graves, tears slid silently down his cheeks, falling into the crevices between the stones.
Finn had always been confident that he would not have regrets in his life because he had nothing to lose.
But once something takes root in your heart like a seed, slowly growing into an unshakable tree, like his feelings for Aoife.
He would regret it, every sleepless night, every moment of disappointment, every breath, watching the two children grow up, surrounded by emptiness, with no one to share his longing with, in his old age with failing eyesight and fading memories, looking back on his life.
Since Aoife left, Finn’s regrets had been accumulating, growing heavier with each passing day.
Aoife left him with two children for a simple reason – to tie him down, to keep him from dying, to keep him from seeking her, to make him regret every second of his existence. To live, for only through suffering could he be spared.
Living as he did, Finn was truly not afraid of death.
Aoife knew that, too.
Finn built a grave for Aoife in Chiwood, overlooking Ethan’s burial site to the south, the sea to the east, the mountains to the north, and a field of flowers to the west.
Finn did not hold a funeral for Aoife. Few people knew her, and fewer knew of her death. Some who heard simply sighed, lamenting her youth.
Yet, there were a few unexpected visitors who came with flowers to pay their respects to Aoife.
Almost every day, Finn made time to visit the cemetery. The first day, he encountered Hamish.
He stared coldly at Aoife’s name and photo on the grave marker, saying nothing.
Finn hadn’t expected Hamish to come, he didn’t welcome him, but he wouldn’t argue with him in front of Aoife’s grave. He just asked in a chilly tone, “What are you here for?”
Hamish said nothing, just gazed at the photo on the grave marker, feeling that her end should not have been like this.
After a while, Hamish asked, “Finn, do you regret it?”
There was no trace of mockery in his tone. Finn fell silent, remembering asking Hamish a similar question years ago when Elisa died.
Fortunes change, and no one had the right to be smug, for the next retribution could be just around the corner.
“I regret it. If I hadn’t joined the Burns family, if I had never been a part of the Burns family, that would have been better. The Burns family do not deserve to have emotions.”
“Aoife left you two children. Don’t let them end up like us. Teach them to love, to be kind people.” Hamish finished speaking, coughing twice.