"Aiden, remember, you are the one who killed our daughter!"
I rushed out of the hospital and drove to the hospital where my daughter was.
I rushed out of the hospital and drove to where my daughter was. When I arrived, she was already in the morgue.
I didn't even get to see her one last time.
Holding her cold body, I cried out in agony,
feeling as if my soul was being torn apart.
I took care of her funeral alone.
Holding her urn, I still couldn't believe she was gone.
She had scored 1570 on the SAT and was excited to go to her dream university.
But now, she was gone forever.
My daughter was so well-behaved, smart, and filial. Her life had just begun.
I locked myself in her room, touching her things over and over, feeling overwhelmed with sadness and depression.
Three days later, Aiden called.
"Clare, my mother is holding a graduation banquet for Kathy in her hometown. You should arrive early tomorrow."
I hugged my daughter's urn tightly and said through gritted teeth, "Okay."
Aiden and I met one hot summer.
I had heatstroke and collapsed on the road. He happened to pass by and, as a medical student, he rescued me.
Thus, we formed a bond.