After speaking, he slammed the bedroom door shut. The panting sounds from upstairs grew louder and louder. I held the spirit-calling flag in my hand and, following its guidance, found my son's spirit hidden in a corner.
Unfortunately for Alex, he had already become a lonely spirit. I could see that he was tightly clutching something in his little hand. With heartache, I carefully put his spirit away.
Then, I saw clearly what he had been holding. It was a small baby windmill made from paper that was sprayed with holy water. Although Alex was only five years old, he was very smart. He knew that only if Annette were happy could the family stay peaceful.
After Annette became pregnant, he started making little toys for the baby, trying to please Charles and make him happy. The paper that was sprayed with holy water was something very complicated to make. It was a ritual of royal embalming. In fact, I did not have time to teach him properly.
I couldn’t help but feel stunned. After all, Alex made these windmills himself, using them as his wishing trees. The handwriting on the paper was crooked and shaky. Still, I read all of it.
Each one said something along this.