Chapter 8

When I woke, Ethan was no longer his usual gentle and handsome self.

He was unshaven and utterly disheveled.

Thinking of Mother, my heart ached so fiercely I nearly fainted.

Yet a sliver of hope remained.

I looked at Ethan with desperate expectation.

"Brother, has Mother come home?"

Ethan nodded.

Tears of joy streamed down my face.

So it really was just a dream?

Mother had returned!

But if she was back, why hadn't she come to see me?

I struggled to rise, my body weak and feeble, determined to find Mother.

Ethan quickly held me down. "Victoria, what are you doing? Lie down!"

"Where is Mother? Why hasn't she come to me?"

I choked back tears, still trying to sit up.

But my powerless body was pinned firmly, unable to move.

Ethan's eyes reddened.

He growled at me in a low voice, "Victoria Roscente, snap out of it! Aunt Charlotte and Dad are gone. They're gone! They're sleeping forever beneath the Alps!"

"But you said they came home..."

I collapsed back onto the bed in despair.

The hospital's snow-white walls felt like they were smothering me, suffocating me.

How much agony had Mother endured in that moment?

Ethan grasped my hand.

His hands were no longer warm.

A damp chill clung to his palms, cold as snow.

His voice trembled as he spoke. "Victoria, my father had been to the Alps once before. I believe he brought Aunt Charlotte home."

I wept silently, ignoring Ethan, as if detached from the world.

Ethan sighed softly and drew me into his embrace.

He made a solemn promise. "Victoria, I will always be here."

I sobbed uncontrollably.

Tears wouldn't stop.

My throat and chest felt ready to burst.

Scalding tears flowed incessantly, like a leaky faucet.

It was as if I needed to pour out all the grief and sorrow in my heart.

I was lost in the pain of losing my mother, unable to free myself.

Clutching old photographs of her, I was consumed by anguish.

Every day I forced myself to sleep.

Because only in dreams would Mother visit me.

Just like when I was a child, she would softly sing to me, take me out for fried chicken, to watch movies...

Ethan cared for me diligently every day, comforting me with gentle words.

A month later, it seemed Ethan had moved past this catastrophe.

My lingerie began disappearing again.

I had no energy to confront him about it.

But his hands grew increasingly restless.