Chapter 6

【Dad, there wasn't much food today.】

【Didn't you have cake this afternoon? Your aunt sent a video.】

【That was for the pictures. I didn't get to eat it.】

【We're family. Don't be so petty.】

Mom opened her messages with me too.

She stopped at a photograph I'd sent.

I'd put my little bear beside the bed.

A small box stood next to him.

Inside were the coins I'd saved.

【Mommy, is this enough for a taxi?】

Her reply had been:

【Stop imagining things. Your aunt's at home. Ask her if you need anything.】

I'd taken the picture on Tuesday afternoon.

I'd wanted Grandma to come and get me.

I was afraid the grown-ups would say taxis were expensive.

Mom enlarged the photograph.

One-yuan coins.

Half-yuan coins.

Even two commemorative coins I'd never wanted to spend.

She counted them with her finger, one by one.

When she reached the end, she started over.

Grandma sat beside her and covered the screen.

"Stop counting."

Mom didn't look up.

"Mom, I sent her so much money."

Grandma looked at her.

"An'an wasn't asking whether you'd sent money."

Mom's hand dropped.

Then people began asking under my aunt's posts why I hadn't appeared for so long.

Some defended her. Childcare was exhausting. They shouldn't rush her.

Others said I was inconsiderate and had worn such a good aunt out until she was sick.

When Mom saw that comment, she sat straight up.

She showed Dad the screen.

"They can't keep saying that about An'an."

After the police released their statement, my parents filmed a video to set the record straight.

They didn't show my body.

Or photographs of the bedroom.

Dad read the words he'd once said.

"Don't go running to your mother every time you feel a bit unwell. Listen to your aunt."

By the end, his voice was hoarse.

Mom sat beside him.

"She wasn't lying."

"When she said she hadn't been allowed to eat, she hadn't."

"When she said she felt unwell, she really did."

Some people tried to comfort them.

【You were deceived too. Don't blame yourselves so much.】

Mom looked into the camera and shook her head.

"But she told me herself."

"I'm the one who didn't listen."

For the first time, no one in the comments told me to be sensible.

People who'd once praised my aunt dug up her old videos.

The same bowl of porridge.

The same blue watercolor spot on my cuff.

The same "good morning," posted as different days.

Brands she'd worked with took down their advertisements.

The platform suspended her account's earnings.

Her claim that she looked after me "without caring about money" was put beside the transfer records.

I looked at the new comments.

At last, everyone believed me.

But I no longer needed them to fight over that shrimp for me.

That evening, Mom found my coin box.

A crumpled little note was pasted inside the lid.

"To get to Grandma's house."

She didn't count again.

She held the box in her lap and sat there all night.

Chapter 9

9

Later, the canceled appointment was investigated too.

My fever had started on Monday afternoon.

Mom had told my aunt to consult a doctor first and take me to hospital if needed.

My aunt had asked a few questions online.

In the screenshot she'd sent Mom, there was only one line.

【Please check her temperature and monitor her alertness.】

My aunt had added underneath:

【The doctor says it's nothing. She just needs rest.】

But that wasn't the whole consultation.

When she'd said I was listless and my chest felt bad, the doctor had told her to take me for an in-person examination promptly, rather than keep waiting at home.

She'd cropped that part out.

She really had made an appointment.

Then she'd canceled it.

In the messages later entered into the case file, she'd told the person meeting her for dinner:

【Got a slot, but the queue's too late. Not going.】

【Children get sick and expect everyone to wait on them. Such a nuisance.】

I remembered that evening.

I'd sat on the shoe bench with both shoes on.

She'd said she would take me out.

I'd even asked whether I could hold Huang when I got an injection.

Looking at her phone, she'd said yes.

So I'd held my bear and waited.

When it was dark outside, she told me to take my shoes off.

"We're not going today. Look, you can still walk on your own."

I hadn't dared ask again.

Afraid she wouldn't take me next time either.

After reading the records, Mom slowly sank back into her chair.

"I only looked at the cropped picture she sent."

Beside her, Grandma asked, "When An'an later said she couldn't breathe properly, why did you still believe that picture?"

Mom didn't answer.

The hospital wasn't very far from home.

When Dad drove me for vaccinations, we'd get there before one song had finished.

But over those days, no one made that journey.

Later, the case moved to prosecution.

Grandma and my parents made the arrangements after my death.

The box that held me was smaller than the schoolbag I'd carried.