I felt a sharp pain in my chest, and tears streamed down my face as I snapped back to reality. Vomit and crushed mooncakes were scattered on the floor, and it suddenly hit me—I had truly gone back in time, back to the Taste of Chicago Festival.
I rushed out, determined to save my daughter, Tamara, who must be at the hospital by now. I had a chance to stop it all! But as I hurried outside, I ran straight into Clinton, my husband, who had just returned.
"Look at how spoiled that brat is!" he snapped, shaking his head. "She ruined the whole night. Emerald worked so hard making those mooncakes that she refused to eat them, pretending to be sick and vomiting everywhere. Poor Emerald even had to go to the hospital during the festival to check on her!"
He continued ranting, completely oblivious to the tragedy that awaited us in our previous life. "If she doesn't apologize tomorrow, then no meals for her—she can kneel!"