LOGINOn the day of the trial, reporters crowded outside the courthouse. Our family's story had attracted widespread attention after the media picked it up. Dad wore the same old suit, and Mom wore black. He helped her up the courthouse steps, one careful step at a time. In the glare of countless camera flashes, they looked frail and worn, yet they kept moving forward with resolve. …Inside the courtroom, Dad sat at the plaintiff's table, representing all of us. Across from him, the defendant's table was empty. The trial was meant to give the dead some measure of justice, yet the defendant would never appear in court. There was something profoundly tragic about that.As my attorney, Mr. Shaw presented all the evidence to the court, including the surveillance footage, testimony from the victim's family, and the diary where I had poured out my longing for home and my hopes for the future. When Mr. Shaw read aloud the simple yet heartbreaking words from my diary, the courtroom fell
My case gave Dad a reason to pull himself together. He stopped spending his days smoking and stopped letting his grief consume him.He gathered all the case materials and went to see Mr. Shaw. When Mr. Shaw saw him, he sighed. His expression softened with sympathy as he said, "Mr. Walker, I'm so sorry for your loss."Dad shook his head and slid the files across the desk. "Mr. Shaw, please. I need you to keep fighting for Edwin."Mr. Shaw froze for a beat, then replied, "He's gone. I mean—""I know," Dad cut him off, his voice firm. "But I can't let him die with everyone believing the worst of him. He took the blame for all of us, especially his sister, and carried that burden for years. "In the end, we misunderstood him. We drove him to his death. I failed him as his father. The only thing I can do for him now is to clear his name."Mr. Shaw saw the look in Dad's eyes and fell silent. After a long moment, he nodded. "Alright. I'll take the case. "We may not be able to get th
Just as the blade was about to cut into Dad's skin, the door burst open. "Charles! Have you lost your damn mind?"The shout pulled Dad back from the brink. It was our next-door neighbor, Mr. Woods. Several other neighbors followed him inside. They'd heard Dad crying and things breaking, and they came over because they were worried about him. Mr. Woods rushed forward, snatched the knife from Dad's hand, and hurled it to the floor. "What are you doing? Huh? You're a grown man! What the hell are you thinking, trying to kill yourself?"Mr. Woods' face was red with anger as he pointed a finger in Dad's face. "Edwin and Josephine are gone. We're all hurting! "But you're the head of this family! Your wife is still in the hospital. If you die too, what's she supposed to do?"Something in those words finally broke through. Dad shuddered, and for the first time, there was a flicker of light in his eyes. Mr. Woods was right. Mom was still in the hospital, unconscious. She was gri
The wind came off the river, cold and biting. The officers slowly pulled back the white sheet, revealing a pale, swollen face. Even after being underwater, her delicate features were still recognizable. It was Josephine. Her eyes were closed, and she looked so peaceful. It was almost as if she were asleep. The gold necklace was still around her neck, its faint glint barely visible beneath the overcast sky. Mom took one look at her and let out an anguished scream. Then, she collapsed. Dad, on the other hand, didn't cry. He just stood there, staring at Josephine's body. The wind ruffled his graying hair, and he looked utterly lost and broken.He slowly crouched beside her. His calloused hand trembled as he reached toward the wet strands of hair plastered across her forehead.But his hand froze in midair. He couldn't bring himself to touch her. Dad was afraid that touching Josephine would break the illusion that she was only sleeping. He was afraid that touching her would fo
By the next day, Josephine had disappeared. All that remained on her bed was a letter and the empty gift box. When Mom and Dad found the letter, they panicked. Josephine's handwriting was unusually neat and steady, nothing like the way she normally wrote. It read, "Dad, Mom, I'm sorry. Mom was right. I'm the reason Edwin is dead. If it weren't for me, our family wouldn't have fallen apart like this. "Edwin took all the blame for me. He sacrificed his future and his life so that I could walk free. And yet, we became the people who drove him to his death. I'm too ashamed to go on living. I don't deserve to. "This necklace was meant to be our way of making it up to Edwin, but he never got it. So, I'm taking it with me. I'm going to make amends to him, and I'll give him this long-overdue gift myself. "Dad, Mom, I'm sorry. I was a terrible daughter. Maybe in another life, I won't be your daughter. Maybe I'll never be a burden to anyone. "Please don't worry about me. Josie."Mom
The house was no longer a home. It had become a silent prison of grief, holding the three of them captive. No one spoke, and no one bothered to turn on the lights. The entire house seemed to sink into darkness and a suffocating silence. Every day, Dad sat on the couch and smoked cigarette after cigarette. Smoke hung thick around him, veiling his face and his bloodshot eyes.The ashtray in front of him was always overflowing with cigarette butts. Perhaps only the nicotine could dull the pain of losing me, if only for a little while. Mom, meanwhile, shut herself away in my room and barely came out. She went through my things one by one, then carefully put everything back exactly where it belonged. She held my clothes close, breathing in the faint scent that still lingered on them as tears streamed down her face. She carefully framed my college acceptance letter, stained with my blood, and placed it beside the bed. Every day, she would sit near it and talk for hours, as though







