That was not the Morgan who made me instant noodles. The real her had turned to ashes. Even her reputation after death had become a tool her son used to trap me.“Have some water.” A glass was handed to me.In front of all the guests, Daniel continued to act like a patient and generous host.“Mira, I know you feel guilty. The dead cannot return. Mom would not want to see you like this.”His voice sounded gentle, but his eyes held a warning, as if he said, “Drink it. Accept this story. Accept your place.”I looked at the glass of water. It was clear and still, like the cleaner that had been poured away that day.I reached out and took the glass. The corners of Daniel’s mouth lifted in a quiet, confident smile.I slowly stood. Under the gaze of hundreds of people in the memorial hall, I threw the glass to the floor.The glass shattered. The sharp sound cut through the hall and brought instant silence.Everyone stared at me. Even Daniel’s smile froze, and a flash of anger crossed
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