In the days that followed, they lived with both remorse and fear.When Mom was cleaning the house one day, she suddenly stopped.She held an old piece of clothing in her hand. It was my favorite shirt. After the countdown ended and I didn't die, Mom resized it for my sister out of anger.She pressed the shirt to her face, took a deep breath, and her shoulders started to shake. The fabric quickly became wet.Sometimes, when Dad got drunk, he would stagger to the storage room door and press his face against it."Brandon," he would say to the door, "It's my fault. Please come out."Suddenly, Mom recalled something, and her face turned pale.Trembling, she said, "On the night Brandon was locked in there, he was calling out in pain. I heard him."She placed her hand on the door. "I heard him, but I ignored him… He must have been in so much pain back then… Brandon, did it hurt really badly? Did you resent Mom and Dad back then?"Of course, no one answered her.She crouched down, ho
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