My gaze fell upon the man in the black and white photo, whose face was lined with wrinkles. I thought, "It is ridiculous, really. The eldest son you have cherished your whole life couldn't even muster the will to try to save you."
Tomas' heavily pregnant wife, Amanda Danes, sensing the tension, cheerfully intervened.
"We're all family here, all family.
"Claire, you're all grown up now. Why create such an ugly scene?"
I thought, "Are you kidding? I'm creating a scene?" I couldn't be bothered with this hypocritical woman who always twisted the truth and only knew how to put on a facade.
When my father fell ill, she didn't hesitate to advise Tomas to give up the surgery.
Turning towards the photo on the table, I bowed respectfully.
I thought, "You never really raised me, so this bow is a token of repaying the debt of birth."
Approaching the table, my mother, Kadee Danes, shot me a venomous look, her face unwelcoming.
In my past life, I would have been meek in front of her. All my courage had been used to secretly escape the village to attend university.
But the memory of my mother standing by coldly as I was held underwater by Lizzy, watching me struggle for air, lingered.