Carl's job was simple.

He brought me three meals a day, made sure I took my medication.

Occasionally, he pushed me outside for some fresh air.

Once his tasks were done, he would leave without saying a word to me.

The neighbor lady said I was wasting my money. "You should have him stay with you 24 hours. Look at you—you're almost getting bedsores."

"I can hire someone else for other things."

I said, lowering my head in embarrassment.

It wasn't that I had money to burn.

I just... I just didn't want Carl to see what I had become.

Under my clothes, my muscles had atrophied, my skin had lost its elasticity.

I was incontinent, and my body reeked.

I could endure the physical pain of my illness,

But I couldn't bear the humiliation.

I wanted Carl's last memory of me to be of someone beautiful.

Having Carl with me in my final days was enough.

I didn't dare ask for more; I didn't deserve to.

That afternoon, Carl brought me braised beef for lunch, but I couldn't chew it at all.

I remembered how my mother's braised beef was the best when I was a child. My father and I would always fight for the last piece.

Suddenly, I wanted to go home. I asked Carl to take me back.

I missed my mom.

"That's not part of my job."

"If you take me home, your work for the day will be done," I said with a smile. "That way... you won't have to see me as much."

Carl hesitated for a moment but finally agreed.

I gave him the address of my new home—it wasn't the upscale neighborhood from before but an old, rundown building in a remote area.

The apartment was on the first floor, but there were still a few steps in front of the building.

Carl couldn't find a ramp for the disabled, so he bent down and lifted me in his arms.

As I lay in his embrace, for a moment, it felt like old times...

But as soon as he opened the door, Carl's face darkened.

He frowned at the man in an apron standing inside.

"Who are you?"

The man didn't answer but took me from Carl's arms.

With a loud bang, he shut the door.

"Patrick, why are you here?"

I mumbled softly, but my eyes couldn't help but glance at the peephole.

Carl hadn't left; he stood at my door with his fists clenched.

He looked almost exactly like he did six years ago.

That day, Carl stood at my front door with a ring, kneeling to propose to me.

The bright light shone on his face, and his eyes sparkled like stars in the sky.

But I told Carl, "Let's break up. You can't give me what I want."

The light in his eyes instantly dimmed.

He didn't say anything and stood at my door for a long, long time.

When I finally opened the door again, my young love had already left me forever.

A vast distance had formed between us, and a wall had grown around our hearts.

Even if the seas and mountains could be flattened, that wall would be hard to overcome.

"I came to check on your grandmother."

Patrick's voice brought me back to reality.

My grandmother came over, urging me to keep Patrick company while she busied herself in the kitchen.

It hadn't been long since I last saw her, but my grandmother's back seemed to have grown even more hunched.

"Has your condition improved?"

As soon as he spoke, my mother's voice echoed from the bedroom.

Hysterical, almost insane.

"Janet, who told you to come back? Get out, get out! I hate you! I hate you! If it weren't for you, your father and I wouldn't be like this. I don't want to see you! Get out!"

My grandmother dropped her spatula with a clatter and hurried to the bedroom.

She closed the door tightly, but the harsh words still slipped through the cracks and into my ears.

Patrick looked awkward, as if he wanted to comfort me.

"It's okay. There's a good chance this illness can be cured."

"30% chance of lifelong paralysis, 30% chance of complications, 30%..." I paused, "Do you think I could be one of those 10% against all odds?"

Patrick didn't speak for a long time.

We had once been dance partners for many years, and now he was the only one who still visited me.

"I'll help you get in touch with an experienced doctor of traditional Chinese medicine."

"Sure."

I wanted to live.

If possible...

Patrick went to help in the kitchen.

When all the dishes were finally served, my grandmother came out of the bedroom.

Her cloudy eyes were brimming with tears. "Janet, don't hold it against your mom."

I nodded and took a bite of the beef stew, but it was a bit overcooked.

No one spoke during the meal.

My grandmother hesitated before asking, "Janet, have you made up with that boy?"

A strong taste of blood filled my mouth.

I suddenly vomited everything I had eaten.

Patrick quickly poured me some water.

But I kept vomiting more and more, tears streaming down my face.

I pushed Patrick's hand away and slowly said, "No."

In my current state, I didn't want to be a burden to anyone.

My grandmother helped me up, and as I got closer, I noticed how much thinner her hands had become and how much more of her white hair had fallen out.

Suddenly, a deep sadness washed over me.

Grandma had aged so much; she didn't even look like herself anymore.

At an age when she should be enjoying the company of her grandchildren, she was instead taking care of her sick family members.

This once happy and harmonious home was now shrouded in the shadow of death.

My aging grandmother, my sick mother, and I—we were all just waiting to die.

After Patrick left, Grandma asked me to stay with her for a while.

"I'm old. Every time we see each other might be the last. I can't leave your mother's side, and I can't go to the hospital to take care of you." Grandma's rough hands kept stroking my cheek. "I'm sorry, my dear..."

Grandma couldn't visit me in the hospital.

I didn't have the strength to come home on my own.

After this, Carl probably wouldn't bring me back again.

As I thought about it, the pain in my body started up again.

Seeing my discomfort, Grandma sang a lullaby to soothe me to sleep.

Her song, mingled with the curses from the next room, filled my mind.

"Sleep, sleep, my dear baby."

"Janet, why don't you just die!"

"Sleep, sleep, Mama loves you."

"I hate you, Janet, I hate you!"

The mixture of comfort and curses was like a slow, painful cut—a brief moment of sweetness followed by bone-deep pain.

……

As I was drifting off to sleep, I heard Grandma mention Carl.

"That boy was so good to you. If only he could stay with you, I could rest easy."

I closed my eyes as tears slipped out uncontrollably.

Carl had been so, so good to me.

So good that even on the brink of death, I couldn't forget him.