Warm sunlight pierced through the gap in the curtains, which gently swayed in the breeze. I had been lying in bed for hours.
"Roxie, get up! How long are you going to sleep? It's already 2 p.m. Come on, I made your favorite food. Take a shower and come downstairs to eat."
A knock on the door, followed by my mother Rachel Lan’s voice. I curled up, pulling the blanket over my head. It had been nearly a week now—aside from eating and sleeping, I did nothing. My body felt numb, as if all sensation had faded, leaving me cold all over.
Many people and ghosts had come to see me, but I didn’t want to meet anyone. I just wanted to stay in bed forever, so I wouldn’t have to wake up and face reality. Sleep was the only comfort I had these days.
No matter what, I couldn’t accept this reality. I covered my ears as the knocking continued. Rufina Howard had called out at my door for a long time before, but I still hadn’t opened it, nor did I intend to speak to anyone else.
None of it mattered to me anymore. My parents managed everything in the Lanworths; I didn’t want to deal with anything. My mother would sometimes nag me on purpose. Hades now seemed reborn, as if everyone had escaped from suffering.
The Underworld Court granted the denizens of Hades a special privilege: upon death, they could immediately enter the Underworld Court and choose whether to stay and serve in the underworld or reincarnate. Whether to be human or animal was up to them—no judgment required, just register at the Bridge of Remorse.
But no one knew that this was exchanged for with Ethan Zhang’s life. I should have gone with him then. If I had been there, maybe my power could have helped. I tried to clench my fist, but found I didn’t even have the strength.
My eyes welled up again. I sniffled. Growing up, no matter how hard or bitter things were, I never cried. I didn’t want anyone to see me weak. Even though I was a woman, maybe it was all those years alone that made me who I am now.
With a click, the door opened. The blanket was pulled away, the curtains drawn, and I rubbed my face against the pillow, curled up tight.
"Roxie, get up. Let me help you with your hair."
I sat down at the vanity. My mom stood behind me, tidying my hair. I looked at myself in the mirror—haggard, pale, my hair a mess, eyes swollen and ringed with dark circles.
"Roxie, I made lots of your favorite dishes. After you eat, let's go shopping. Your dad's here too—a rare chance for the three of us..."
Drip, drip. I quickly wiped away the tears that slipped from my eyes, trying to hide them, but soon my emotions spun out of control. I collapsed onto the vanity, quietly sobbing.
My mom just patted my back from behind, saying nothing. I knew crying wouldn't solve anything—nothing at all.
After eating, I fled back to my room, locked the door, and leaned by the window. I drew the curtains, leaving a narrow gap, and stared sideways at the passing people and cars on the street.
From bright sunshine to sunset, the light in the room dimmed. I still didn’t move. As it grew darker, I lay down.
During that time, my mother came by several times, but I never responded. I pressed my forehead, feeling utterly miserable.
The noise from outside drifted in; the street grew lively. Covering my ears, I curled up under the blanket, restless and uneasy.
For some reason, tonight my body, usually cold, felt hot, and my mood was especially irritable.