He was so strong that I couldn't break free. My whole body trembled with fear, and it was too late to run. I struggled and screamed, but no one paid any attention to my pleas.

They treated me like prey, forcing one bottle of alcohol after another into my mouth.

My consciousness began to blur, and I sank into endless darkness, trapped in a terrifying dream. In the dream, I became a bloodied lamb, surrounded by people with no escape, left only to be slaughtered.

When I came to again, I was on the train home. I blinked in confusion, but excitement bubbled up inside me. I was finally on my way home. Soon, I would see Grandma.

Strangely, when the conductor came to check tickets, she scanned every passenger carefully, but when she passed me, it was as if I weren't there at all, and she walked right by.

Once I got off the train, I ran as fast as I could, wishing I could fly straight into Grandma's arms. By the time I reached the village entrance, I saw her from a distance.

She stood alone by the old millstone, leaning on her cane, staring unblinkingly in the direction I always returned from.

A neighbor passing by couldn't help but say, "Mrs. Graham Senior, it's so cold outside. You should head back inside."

Grandma shook her head stubbornly. A hopeful smile spread across her face as she murmured over and over, "Just a little longer…"

I ran full speed, calling out, "Grandma! I'm home!"

I reached out to hug her, but my arms passed through her like she wasn't there.

I froze in place.

That was when I realized I was dead. I had died in that rental apartment, trying to earn the money to get home, during my very first winter break after getting into college.

Grandma waited until the sun had completely set before the light in her eyes finally dimmed. Weighed down by disappointment, she slowly made her way back home.

I followed her home. A shiny, new car sat at the gate. My parents' faces shone with joy as they carried pile after pile of Christmas gifts inside.

I couldn't believe my eyes. When had our family ever been able to own such a car?

Mom had always told me this year would be hard, to save every bit of money at school, and not to ask her for extras.

My little brother, Hugo Graham, leapt out of the car and ran to Grandma. "Grandma, where's Nina? Why isn't she home yet? I was waiting for her to tell me a story."

Grandma ruffled Hugo's hair. "The tickets were probably hard to get. Maybe she has to take the train tomorrow."

Mom overheard her and slammed her suitcase to the ground in fury. She yelled, "That brat's sulking at me! Just because I reduced her allowance a little, she refuses to come home!

"If she never returns, fine—I'll pretend I never had a daughter! She spends our hard-earned money every day and can't even remember to check in. Ungrateful little witch!"

I stood in front of Mom, waving my hands desperately. "Mom, no, that's not true! I wasn't sulking, and I didn't refuse to come home. I came back on time. You just can't see me! I'm not ungrateful. I've worked so hard. I got first in my major this semester!"

No matter how loudly I screamed or how desperately I waved, they couldn't hear me, and they couldn't see me.

Grandma came back into the room. I leaned my head gently against her back, just like I had as a child. The familiar scent of her soap and lotion filled me with comfort. I wished this moment could stretch on forever.

She put on her reading glasses and carefully lifted an old box from under the bed. She opened it slowly, revealing three parcels swaddled in faded floral cloth.

The first parcel contained a bankbook. She smiled softly and said, "This 50 thousand dollars is everything I've saved my whole life. I'm leaving it for Nina. When she marries, it'll be her wedding gift. With money in her hands, she can hold her head high and never be wronged in her new home."

Even though she was terminally ill and couldn't even bring herself to buy medicine, she was leaving everything to me. My eyes filled with tears. I realized that even ghosts could cry.

The second bundle contained two golden bangles, polished to a shine even though I had never seen her wear them.

Grandma fell into a reverie. "These were my treasures when I got married. My mother gave them to me. They're the most valuable things I've ever owned, and I've never dared to wear them.

"How I wish I could live just a little longer, even two more years, so I could put them on Nina myself when she gets married."

I sobbed uncontrollably. "Grandma, I'm sorry. I can't do it!"

She saved the last bundle for last. Inside lay a neatly folded piece of paper—the deed to our old house.

She said with a hint of guilt, "Your little brother is just five years old, and your parents already bought him a house in the city. I can't afford a big city home, but this old place will shelter you from the wind and rain.

"If you ever feel wronged or hurt, you can come back here. And if you miss me, go to the grave at the east end of the village and talk to me—I'll hear you."

I couldn't hold back any longer. I wanted to throw myself into her arms and cry, "I'm already dead! Use this money to take care of yourself! Stop worrying about me! Forget me and live well!"

But no matter how desperately I cried, she couldn't hear me.

I could only watch as she hid the wooden box under the bed, hoping I would come back.

…

That evening, Mom had set a table full of food. Grandma barely touched it, and she repeatedly gazed at the door, filled with both hope and concern.

Dad hesitated and glanced at Grandma. "Maybe we should just call Nina."

Mom slammed her fork onto the table, and her expression darkened instantly. "Call her? No! You're all just spoiling her. I'm her mother. Do you really think I can't handle my own child?

"No one is calling her today. She needs time to reflect on what she's done. We can't keep indulging her bad habits."

The shock made the frail Grandma cough violently. Dad quickly helped her steady herself.

Mom's tone softened slightly as she turned to Grandma, though her stance remained firm. "Mom, I know this sounds harsh, but it has to be said. Nina turned out this way because you've always spoiled her. The allowance system I set up is for her own good.

"Before she enters the workforce, she needs to learn how the world works. Only effort brings reward. Nothing comes without hard work. If you keep protecting her, it's not love. It's hurting her. When she steps into society, she'll suffer for it."

Grandma was a soft-spoken woman from the countryside. She had never raised her voice in her life, much less argued with her son and daughter-in-law.

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come. In the end, she simply sat there with reddened eyes, looking like a helpless child.

After a long while, Grandma finally gathered the courage to speak, saying, "If you two won't contact Nina, then I will. If you won't let her come home, then I will!"

With that, she gripped her cane and started toward the door.

The moment Mom saw Grandma trying to leave, she flew into a rage. She pointed at Grandma's back and shouted, "See? Nina turned out this way because you spoiled her! When she enters the workforce someday, she'll just be a weakling who can't survive in the real world. She'll never accomplish anything!"

The more she spoke, the angrier she became. She suddenly turned and stormed into the bedroom Grandma had specially cleaned for me.

My heart skipped a beat, and I hurried after her.

I saw Mom yank the brand-new quilt off my bed and throw it hard onto the floor. Then, she stomped on it twice and snapped, "How dare she defy me and give me attitude? Fine! She's not touching this quilt ever again!"

Right after that, her gaze fell on the wall plastered with certificates, neatly arranged from elementary school all the way through high school. Each one represented years of my hard work and was a source of pride for Grandma. Without a second thought, Mom yanked them down and tore them into pieces.

"What good are these worthless certificates?" she spat. "Can they feed her or teach her discipline? She doesn't know gratitude or how to give back! Even a thousand of these won't change the fact she's an ungrateful brat!"

I stared at the shredded pieces scattered across the floor and shouted anxiously, "Mom, I wasn't spoiled. I've always been responsible. When I was five years old, I could already carry two buckets of water to help Grandma water the fields.

"I know how to cook, wash clothes, and take care of Grandma when she's sick."

My voice trembled as I continued, "I know it's not easy for you and Dad to earn money. I've never complained about anything. Grandma and I have been living off the village subsidy all these years. I've always been careful with money. I never wasted a single cent."

I pointed to my closet, silently urging her to open it and see for herself. Every single piece of clothing inside was patched and mended.

If she still doubted me, she could ask the elders in the village or any of my former teachers. Every one of them had praised me for being responsible, respectful, and diligent in my studies.

Grandma had always told me that my parents loved me very much. They were just too busy with work to spend time with me. That was why I had always tried my hardest, putting in all my effort at school and at home, afraid of causing trouble or losing their approval.

Just then, a chaotic sound of footsteps came from outside the door.

Dad immediately relaxed and smiled at Mom. "See? The kid finally gave in to you. She's already at the door."

When Mom heard that, she straightened her back at once.

The door suddenly swung open, and the village chief, Rudy Miller, stumbled inside.

The moment Mom saw it was Mr. Miller, she assumed I had asked him to come plead on my behalf. She crossed her arms and put on a cold expression.

"Mr. Miller, you're here to speak up for Nina, aren't you? Let me make this clear. No one's pleading will work today. She made a mistake, so she needs to face the consequences.

"Tell her she must write a five-thousand-word self-reflection today and read it out loud at the village entrance. Otherwise, she's not stepping back into this house."

Mr. Miller tried to interject, but Mom wouldn't let him get a word out. He waved his hands anxiously, looking flustered.

Grandma leaned forward and looked past him. "Where's Nina? Where is she?" she asked worriedly.

Mr. Miller fixed his eyes on Mom's stubborn face. He clenched his teeth, stamped his foot, and yelled, "Something terrible has happened! You fools, how could you push your child to this extreme?"