Mrs. Hawthorne Insists I Killed Mr. Hawthorne

3

She slammed The Storeroom shut again. In my despair, I looked at my own reflection with self-mocking ridicule, like a complete clown.

'Why would I ever think she could save me? After all, she was the one who shoved me into this bottomless abyss, from which there is no escape.'

I honestly don't understand. On that night of torrential rain, it was my brother who hunted down Mr. Hawthorne and threatened him, saying, "Old man, give me $50,000. I have an emergency."

His demand that day was a huge shock to Mr. Hawthorne. As an ordinary Bricklayer, how could he possibly come up with so much money immediately?

"Ian! Can you give me a little more time?"

But my brother instantly rejected Mr. Hawthorne's humble plea.

"If I don't see the money by tomorrow, you'll get it for me even if you have to sell off all your organs!"

The moment he finished speaking, my brother went off to enjoy some Street Racing, leaving behind a pitiful, white-haired Mr. Hawthorne and me, who was still completely clueless.

"In the end... he's grown up and his wings have hardened."

Mr. Hawthorne let out a helpless sigh, looking at me with a face full of sorrow and grief.

"Daughter, Mr. Hawthorne may not be able to see you get married and have children. In the future... you must take good care of yourself."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mr. Hawthorne burst out the door into the drizzling rain of the night. From that day on, he never came back.

My heart felt as if it had been plunged into an icebox, a piercing pain like a needle's sting. I dialed Mr. Hawthorne's number over and over again.

After I tried again and again, all I got was no answer. Finally, on the last attempt, Mr. Hawthorne picked up.

"Daughter, it is Mr. Hawthorne who has failed you. You must live on..."

"Huh? Hello?"

Before I could even react, the call was disconnected. When I tried to call back, there was still no answer.

"This..."

My mind was a complete mess; I was about to get up and rush out to look for Mr. Hawthorne. Then, early one morning three days later, I was still sound asleep in my room...

...when Mrs. Hawthorne grabbed me by the hair, dragging me from my bed onto the floor. She glared at me viciously, with a look in her eyes as if she wanted to eat me alive.

"Moira Hawthorne! You Filthy Mutt! What did you do to Mr. Hawthorne?!"

"Why did he jump into the sea and kill himself right after your call? And sign a contract to sell his organs?"

"It was you! You're the one who killed Mr. Hawthorne! You Harbinger of Death!"

In a fit of rage, Mrs. Hawthorne raised the wine bottle in her hand and brought it crashing down on my cheek, near the bridge of my nose. The bottle shattered into pieces on impact.