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The truth laid bare, Dad aged overnight.
Struck by a profound mental blow, he became incapable of functioning, spending his days beside my body in the morgue.
He barred anyone else from entering the autopsy room, especially his students, who reminded him too painfully of the day he used me for teaching.
Tony told him the case was closing, and it
was time for me to be laid to rest.
But Dad wasn’t ready; he poured out apologies and confessions to my remains.
Sobbing, he said, “Emily, Dad has failed you terribly! In the next life, I’ll make it up. to you, serve you however you wish.”
He frantically consumed all the health supplements I had bought, swallowing them.
Until he choked, and his tears mingled
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with the taste.
Coming to his senses, he realized these were the last vestiges of my care for him, and he carefully packed them away.
He retrieved a gift I had bought for him at a store. When asked if he had been in touch with me, Dad responded blankly, “I lost her… I’ve lost my Emily…”
He recalled the flowers I had bought for Mom and frantically searched the trash bins, but the garbage was long gone.
He questioned every janitor and followed the trail from the transfer station to the
landfill.
Searching the dump, the middle–aged man with graying hair dug for a bouquet of flowers that had wilted long ago, from
daylight until he was nearly kicked out as a
vagrant.
At last, he found them.
The bouquet was withered and faded, just
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like me.
Dad took my flowers to Mom’s grave.
He laid them down solemnly, murmuring to Mom, “These are from Emily. She always knew you loved lilies and violets best.”
As he spoke, his tears hit the ground hard.
“Honey, I’ve wronged Emily, and I’ve wronged you.”
“Blinded by my own arrogance, I never saw the truth for all these years, stubbornly punishing our daughter in the most absurd ways.”
“Emily, she was so good, so sweet, and I… I was so cruel to her…”
In the quiet of the cemetery, Dad’s cries finally broke free.
He wept like a child.
As I listened to Dad’s weeping, I felt momentarily stunned.
Should I step forward to comfort him?
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I stood before Mom’s gravestone, reaching out to touch the mother in the photo.
After so many years, I was finally able to visit her in the cemetery.
Sadly, my hand still passed through the
stone.
I felt a profound sense of loss.
“Mom, if there really is another life, I want to be your daughter again, to repay you for raising me.”
As the rain began to fall, the droplets landing on me, my already transparent body started to dissolve.
Just when I thought I would leave this world, Dad opened an umbrella, shielding Mom’s gravestone.
By chance, the umbrella also covered me.
This was probably the last thing he could do for me in this life.
