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Chapter 11
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The Teacher’s Daughter Chapter 13
Mom murmured to herself, calling my name again and again, repeating her apologies as if the words alone could wake me from my death.I felt my body growing more and more transparent, my soul losing its weight, as though it could drift away at any moment.I knew my time in this world was running out.My funeral was held seven days after the end of the semester. It was simple—only a few distant relatives attended.Mom wore black and stood before the gravestone, her face expressionless. There was no light left in her eyes; she looked like a statue without a soul.She didn’t cry. Her tears had already dried up during countless sleepless nights.She simply stared at my name carved into the stone, at the enlarged photograph where I smiled with innocent joy. Her lips moved silently, though no one knew what she was saying.After the funeral, Mom returned to the empty house.She walked into the kitchen—the place where I had spent my final moments—and picked up a knife.Sunlight s
The Teacher’s Daughter Chapter 12
After leaving the cemetery, Mom didn’t go home. Instead, she went straight to the school. Her hair was messy, her face still bore unhealed wounds, and her eyes were hollow and weary—unrecognizable compared to the radiant Ms. Marlow she had once been.Although the holiday had begun, a few teachers remained to handle unfinished work. Mom paused at Ms. Ambrose’s office door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open.“Wanda, I am submitting my resignation.”Her voice was calm, yet carried an unyielding finality.Ms. Ambrose froze as she stared at Mom.“What’s happened, Helena? Your award ceremony just concluded—you were at the peak of your career. Why resign all of a sudden?”“I am unfit to be a teacher.”Mom shook her head, tears spilling again. “I killed my daughter. I no longer have the right to educate anyone else’s child.”She offered no further explanation, merely placing the resignation letter she had prepared on Ms. Ambrose’s desk.Ms. Ambrose looked at her haggard f
The Teacher’s Daughter Chapter 11
“Evie, I was wrong… I shouldn’t have chased after those hollow honors, shouldn’t have hurt you for them…” she cried, her voice breaking as she whispered, fragmented and desperate.“Won’t you come back? I’ll give back all my accolades… I only want you…”But no matter how she cried, no matter how she pleaded or repented, she could no longer win my response.I floated beside her, silently watching her unravel, my mind calm and still. Once, I had longed for her to set aside those accolades and truly see me. But now, it was far too late.Finally, a staff member carried out a delicate urn.Mom immediately stood, trembling, and reached for it. When the urn settled into her hands, she felt its weight—heavy, solemn, the last trace of me left in this world.She held it close, as if it contained my entire being. She bowed her head, pressed her cheek against the cold surface, and let silent tears soak the box.“I’ll take you to see your Dad.”…Mom carried my urn to Dad’s grave. T
The Teacher’s Daughter Chapter 10
“Evie, I know I was wrong… very wrong…”Mom clutched the photograph tightly to her chest, her body trembling violently. “Can you… Can you give me one more chance? Just one. I’ll make it right. I’ll give back everything you lost.”But no one answered her.Only the cold air filled the room, and my spirit floated silently beside her.I watched her pain without a stir in my heart.Once, I had hungered so desperately for her love and attention.I had forgiven her time and again, clung to hope, only to receive wound after wound.Now, she finally regretted it. She finally understood her mistakes.But it was far too late.…The police and the neighbors eventually left.Only Mom and I remained in the room, along with the lingering air thick with sorrow and despair.She knelt beside me again, cautiously brushing the nonexistent dust from my face with a handkerchief.Her movements were so gentle, so careful, as if she feared disturbing my rest. She was nothing like the strict,
The Teacher’s Daughter Chapter 9
The officer sighed helplessly and stepped back, giving up on trying to intervene.Neighbors lingered at the doorway, watching the heartbreaking scene unfold, shaking their heads in sorrow. Some whispered that Helena Marlow treated her students so well—how could she be so cruel to her own daughter? Others murmured that I was pitiable, far too young to endure so much.Those words stabbed at Mom like knives. She spun toward the doorway, glaring fiercely at the neighbors.“Shut up! None of you has the right to interfere. If you hadn’t called the police, Evie could still be lying safely at home. She was only throwing a tantrum!”Her words stunned the neighbors. One of them finally spoke up, trying to reason with her, “You can’t say that, Helena. We were worried she might be in danger… who couldn’t have known—”“Enough!” Mom cut them off, tears spilling once more. “It’s all my fault… I drove her to death…”Her voice dwindled, muttering into itself. Slowly, she released my c
The Teacher’s Daughter Chapter 8
“Why… why didn’t you tell me you were hurting so much?”She leaned over me, her shoulders trembling violently, tears falling like beads from a snapped string onto the floor.“I was wrong, Evie! Will you open your eyes and look at me? “I’ll be good to you from now on. I’ll give you all my gentleness… please come back…”Her crying softened into muffled sobs, fading into desperate whispers.I drifted beside her, quietly watching.Watching her face streaked with blood and tears, watching her anguish, watching her finally realize her mistakes.But it was too late.I was already gone.Dead from her coldness and favoritism, dead from endless punishments, from her obsession with the title of Best Homeroom Teacher.I remembered when she had gently stroked my head, calling me her little princess, remembered the fifty dollars she had pressed into my hand to buy treats, and her promise to make me barbecue pork ribs.Those fleeting moments of tenderness had twinkled like stars in my dim
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