"It's all your fault. If it weren't for you, Alice wouldn't have died. If only she had listened to me and come home earlier to get married, none of this would have happened. It's all because you encouraged her to be independent."
I was indeed wrong to inspire an ingrate.
My life had just begun, and I had worked hard to buy a house for myself.
But she had insisted on moving in with me.
Yet her mother blamed me for corrupting her.
I pretended to cry with a grievance, apologizing, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Archer. I just wanted Alice to rest in peace sooner."
She was sweating profusely, gasping and cursing, "Rest in peace, my foot."
I snatched the handkerchief from Sanford's hand and handed it to her to wipe her sweat.
She used it and then collapsed into the chair.
Sanford's sweat crawled across his forehead as he looked at me.
"Mrs. Archer seems to be overwhelmed with grief," he stuttered
Seeing that I wasn't suspicious, Sanford sat down to catch his breath, feeling like he had exhausted all his intelligence in this lifetime.
I helped Sanford up from the ground.
"Mrs. Archer has collapsed. You should hurry and call the doctor."