What Happens At The Ending Of 'The Quality Of Mercy: An Autobiography'?

"I told you to give up." He grabbed my wrist and twisted it, pulling me close with a tender smile. "I told you, you can't escape. You're cold. Were you chilled?" I answered with a venomous glare. "If you won't smile... I'd stitch your lips into one with a needle if I had to. I don't want to be rough. But why... does nothing ever go my way?" Even as I stayed silent, he muttered to himself as if used to it, then lifted the temperature-adjusted showerhead over my clothes. "Stop being so stubborn and talk to me already. I'm the one who's suffering here... Okay? Elias Reyes." Find out who the man is-who stole Elias 's memories and is holding him captive.

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

I've been dating my enemy, Sean Thompson, for four years. At first, I intended to lurk by his side and find an opportunity to get my revenge. But little do I know that a medical report with my cancer diagnosis is capable of shattering my life's plans in an instant. Since then, I've quit my job and broken up with Sean. Now that I no longer give a damn about everything, I lash out at everyone who dares approach me. Everyone is weirded out by my behavior. They all wonder what made my personality go through such a huge change to the point that I'm easily triggered by the slightest inconvenience. My family is already ruined to begin with. My parents are dead, my family has gone bankrupt, and now I'm on the verge of death. My only wish is that I can screw Sean over so that my older brother, Adrian Price, can get released from prison as soon as possible. But I can't do anything about my wish at all. At that moment, my childhood friend stands by my side, consequences be damned. He takes good care of me and cares for me as he always does. When Sean finds out that I have terminal cancer, he actually agrees to help fulfill my wish. Half a year later, Adrian is released from prison. Sean also returns the company to my family. My wish is fulfilled. Everyone wants me to keep fighting for my life and continue receiving treatment for my cancer. I know that I need to keep going for their sake, even if it means extending my life for a day or even a month longer.

In a world ravaged by global nuclear fallout, I struggled to survive alongside my fragile, sweet-faced best friend, dodging one radiation storm after another. The route to the Central Safety Zone was blocked—we had no choice but to use two detonators to blast open the tunnel. Otherwise, we would be caught in the storm, our bodies rotting away until we either dissolved into blood sludge or turned into zombies. … In my previous life, I had risked everything to secure those detonators, only for my best friend to hand them over to a complete stranger without hesitation. "They have elderly people and children on their side too," she said earnestly. "One detonator can save many lives. Iris, you can't be selfish." I was so furious my blood pressure nearly exploded, but with no other option, I went straight into a horde of zombies to steal backup detonators. I lost an arm in the process, drenched in blood and barely standing. Yet, she complained that I was covered in gore and had frightened the children. After finally regrouping with the main convoy, I rushed to deliver the formula for anti-radiation medicine to the research institute so that more people could be saved. But she accused me of stealing supplies and trying to flee, which led to my expulsion from the base, and death, my body rotting away under the radiation. When I opened my eyes again, there was still one hour left before the radiation storm hit. I looked down at the two detonators in my hand, then at my pitiful, tear-brimmed best friend—and I smiled. Since she loved being a good person so much, this time, I would let her be one to her heart's content.

My sister, Laura Ward, died the year we were ten, the year we snuck out of school to play. From that day forward, my mother’s grief turned into a burning hatred for me, convinced that I was the reason my sister was gone. She treated me like a servant, like an unwanted burden, and filled the void by adopting a perfect, obedient daughter to replace my sister. She took everything from me without a second thought — my rights, my freedom, my very existence — and even demanded that I give up a kidney for her precious adopted girl. Alright, Mother, if you want a life, I’ll give you mine! But it was only when my body lay cold, my breath long gone, that she finally turned and looked at me.

After my father died, the illegitimate daughter he had been raising abroad immediately returned to the country to fight me for the estate. Her name was Alma. I was his only legitimate child, and I even had a will on my side. However, I still failed to keep my rightful inheritance. My fiancé Wayne, who could command the entirety of North City with a flick of his wrist, insisted on helping Alma. He stood protectively in front of Alma’s wheelchair and asked me impatiently, “With the money I gave you, you could buy plenty of houses like that. Are you really so heartless? Why would you fight a disabled person over it?” I confronted him, my voice trembling with disbelief. “Fighting? That house is the only thing my mother left me.” In the end, Wayne helped Alma win the lawsuit. He looked at my red, swollen eyes with a trace of guilt and said, “Jocelyn, I’ll make it up to you in the future.” However, I knew then that there was no more future between us.