The farewell was a disaster—a messy end to a messy life—but I still had to pull myself together. I had to figure out how to survive these last few days.
I was a walking tragedy. About to die, yet still desperate for a quiet, clean place to take my final breath.
I reached out to Eliana Norton. She told me to come to her place. Her husband and daughter had both passed away in that house, she said, so adding one more dying soul wouldn't make a difference.
I moved in. While the online buzz about the "rich girl and the sanitation worker" was still hot, I started filming videos with her. It was my way of repaying her kindness. And also a way to earn enough for food during my final countdown.
When the timer on my arm showed only thirty hours left, Dad and Mom started calling me like crazy.
I didn't answer.
So they bombarded me with texts.
*You don't dare answer the phone? Think your wings have hardened, do you?*
*Grace had a nightmare and has a fever from the shock. It's critical. Hurry back and use Resurrection on her.*
*You have time to film those trashy videos, but no time to save your own biological sister?*
*I think you haven't learned your lesson yet!*
I calmly put my phone away.