“Mom, stop that,” Brendan said on cue, rushing to sit down on Aiden’s other side. “Don’t bother Aiden. Also—show some care for me, won’t you? I’m the one who got shot.”
“Yes, yes, poor you. This is what you get for not playing video games with me growing up. You would’ve learned to dodge better.”
“Your mother’s right.”
“Video games and real life are completely different!”
While their love-arguing continued with growing voices and wider hand gestures, Guo approached Aiden. He pulled out a piece of paper rolled in perfect condition from his bag and began unrolling it. “This is your brother’s will.”
Aiden placed his hand on top of the half-rolled paper, but his eyes remained on Brendan’s family. “I don’t need to see it.” Brendan’s dad rubbed Brendan’s head, and the other boy desperately tried to swat the hand away. Beneath Aiden’s hand was the cold paper his brother left behind. An ache wormed into his side.
Guo followed Aiden’s gaze and rolled the paper back up. “I will let you know that your brother left you money for your time to finish college. After that, he said he promised you that he would leave you to figure things out on your own. Outside of the involvement of Infinite.”
Aiden nodded. “Yes,” he said, turning toward Guo, and bowed his head. “Thank you for conveying that to me.” He lifted his head with a small smile. “My brother was one to always remember his promises.”
Guo patted Aiden’s shoulder before approaching Brendan’s father with a nod of his head. Brendan’s father immediately stopped teasing. His expression hardened. He turned toward Aiden, offering him a hand to shake.
Aiden grasped his hand, but as he shook it, Brendan’s father called him “Hui Lang.” He stared in disbelief at the perfect pronunciation that left the father’s mouth.
“Hui Ye was a good man. I’m sorry for your loss, and I will never forget the contribution he made to make this happen. Be proud of him and be proud of yourself.”
Aiden gulped. “I’ll try,” his voice cracked. He looked down. “I’ll try.”
The man nodded and left the room, speaking with Guo in hushed voices.
“Oh, before I forget,” Brendan’s mom turned to the bag and pulled out a wrapped package. “Someone left this for you, at our door, of all places.”
Brendan sat down beside Aiden on his other side and watched. Aiden inspected the package gingerly. The person left no note or address. He did not recognize the handwriting on the card. Carefully, he tore the brown wrap. His eyes widened as his fingers brushed against familiar silk fabric. Breaths quickening, he peeled the wrap fully away, revealing the gorgeous hanfu he saw hanging in Celia’s closet in her hideout mansion.How did she even manage to get it delivered already?His hands shook holding the treasure.
His fingers tightened around the hanfu, and the silk bunched underneath his fingers before falling delicately when he let the cloth go. His hand passed over the elegant embroidery. He admired the craftsman's skill in creating artwork of wind and stars against the dark expanse of the hanfu sky. His eyes passed the symbol of Hui, and shocking even himself, Aiden burst into tears. He pulled the hanfu close to his chest.
The smoke that Aiden brushed aside after Guo’s comment sprung to life around his nose, and the fire burned away the pages of his mother’s shadowed smile.
“How is it that I can’t remember what she looked like at all?” he gasped. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, and he rocked himself with the hanfu clutched in his hands. “I spent so long running away from her memories that I’ve completely lost her. It must’ve tortured my brother to burn all her photos to protect me. It must’ve tortured my dad to not properly mourn.”
He buried his face into the hanfu and sobbed. A thought he had buried away burst free. A cursed thought whose tendrils caressed his face and whispered poisonous words. It forced his mouth open, and it spilled out, Brendan interrupted him.
“Donotthink this whole thing was your fault because it’snot. Everything that happened afterward they did of their own volition. You had no hand in it.”
“But there must be some fault,” he choked. He traced the embroidery with shaking hands. “There must be some.”
“There isn’t!”
Tears still falling, Aiden looked up. Zhu Zhu panted at the doorway followed by a breathless He Bao. At the sight of her, Brendan and his mom quickly moved out of the room, making way for her to march over with her half-swollen face. She kneeled on the floor and looked Aiden in the eye. “It’s not your fault. It’s none of our faults. We cannot blame ourselves for the actions of adults who should’ve known better. I have spent my entire life doing that for my mom. I will not make excuses for her anymore. You should not make excuses either.”
Closing her eyes, she stood up. A slow breath seeped in through her nose and out her mouth. Her hand reached into the pocket of her dress, and she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. “I—have something to confess to you.”
He blinked. “What is it?”
She uncrumpled the paper, smoothing it several times over, and handed it to him. “My mom found a picture of your mom that wasn’t destroyed. She told me and He Bao to dispose of it. He Bao took care of it, but her image stayed in my mind, and I drew her likeness. I…know that’s super wrong of me, but I kept thinking to myself I would give it to you one day. I kept it with me all this time, but I never summoned the courage to give it to you. It was stupid. I was scared you would be angry or that you would judge my art skills. I’m tired of being scared. You deserve to have this.”
Aiden breathed, staring at the woman in the drawing. Despite the lines crisscrossing the paper's folds, he saw her face and recognized her. He recognized that smile, the way she leaned forward when she ran, and her hair flying in the wind. He heard her voice in the distance, and the hand that he remembered as dead became warm in his mind once more.
She was laughing when she played cards with him. It sounded nothing like the graceful bells one expected from a woman of her appearance. Her laugh echoed like sharp horns in a concert. The sketch sprung to life, and the faceless woman in his memories filled in with color and sound.
Her hand was large and protective.
She was beautiful.
