The next afternoon, my phone rang. I took a deep breath and used my toes to answer the call.

Dad's face appeared on the screen. In the background was a makeshift work shed and an overcast sky. He'd gotten a lot more tanned and had lost a ton of weight.

"Have you eaten yet, Ally? How are you doing? Are you still in any pain?" he asked.

I forced a smile and did my best to keep my tone light. "I did. I feel really full now. You lost so much weight, Dad. You're a lot darker, too."

He brushed off my concern for him. "I'm fine. Your dad's a tough man. This project is almost complete. Once I get paid, I'll come home and find you the best prosthetist there is."

Just then, someone on the other end called Dad's name, urging him to go back to work.

"Go on, Dad. I'm fine, really. Make sure you look after yourself, okay, Dad? Don't fall sick, and don't go hungry. Dress warmly…"

Dad chuckled as he heard me rattle off instructions for him.

"Alright. I'll get back to work. Be good and listen to your mom, okay?"

I put down the phone and rubbed my cheek with my knee. It was wet.

The apartment was quiet. Mom and Adrian had left for the hospital early in the morning.

A plate of food had been left on the table for me. I sat down and ate slowly, taking the time to savor every bite. I made sure to eat every last crumb on the plate.

Then, I returned to my room and opened the closet with my foot. A light blue dress with delicate embroidery on the front hung at the very back.

Adrian had bought me that dress with his first paycheck, saying, "I'm sure you'll look like a princess in this dress, Ally."

That felt like a lifetime ago.

I took longer than usual, using my feet and my teeth, to clumsily put the dress on. The zipper was at the back. I couldn't reach it, so I had to let it hang open.

Sitting down in front of the mirror, I stared at myself. Since the dress hadn't been zipped up, it was a little loose on me. The empty sleeves dangled on the sides.

I suddenly felt the urge to hear Mom's voice, so I picked up my phone and called her. It kept ringing for ages, but the call went unanswered.

The same thing happened when I called again, so I tried Adrian next. This time, the call was rejected right away. A few seconds later, I got a curt message.

"I can't deal with you right now."

My eyes remained fixed on the words for a very long time. In the end, I typed out a reply.

"I'm sorry."

After putting on the softest pair of shoes that I owned, I left the apartment.

I knew there was a secluded residential building at the very back of the neighborhood. Instead of using the elevator, I climbed up the stairs.

The building was on the edge of the neighborhood, and right outside was a patch of greenery that no one ever strolled past. Most of the shrubbery looked half-dead.

I climbed to the 18th floor—the top floor of the building. It was very windy on the rooftop. I walked right to the edge and sat down, my feet dangling in the air.

I knew I wouldn't be falling on anyone here.

After retrieving a painkiller from the pocket of my dress, I used my teeth to take the pill out of its foil wrapping and swallow it.

I was scared of pain. I was afraid I wouldn't die from the fall. It'd be horrible to end up severely injured instead of dead.

As I leaned forward, the wind rushed against me, roaring in my ears.

…

Mom and Adrian returned in the evening. As the car turned into the neighborhood, they saw a large crowd gathered in the distance.

A flicker of unease welled up inside them.

Mom opened the car door and almost collapsed to the ground, her legs buckling. Adrian managed to catch her. He held her steady, and they stumbled over to the crowd together.

They pushed through the crowd, forcing their way to the front.

A soiled plastic sheet had been laid out on the ground. Peeking out from under it was some light blue fabric and some dark hair.

As if possessed, Mom pushed everyone aside and lifted the plastic sheet.