*****
Evin felt his surroundings change abruptly. A scene was about to occur.
Soon, he found himself standing near Layla's bed. He felt tired and overwheld, but he had no power to stop these scenes. He couldn't even stop the constant string of mories for much long.
An older, much more haggard Layla was lying on the bed, looking resolutely at her two children.
Her hand was wrapped in clean bandages, the shape under it mutilated. Two of her right-hand fingers were missing, while a part of her left hand had caved in wrongly.
After the incident with the police officers, the family hoped it would heal naturally after a while, but such a thing did not occur. So of the crushed parts started to rot after a week, forcing them to sever it. And even then, Layla was forced to live in agony, as her hand continued to tornt her with phantom pain even after all these years.
Evin could sympathize with her, knowing how painful it was to live with a missing limb. He could only thank the existence of magic for lessening his burdens.
Sighing, he looked at the rest of the people in the room.
Evan was sitting on the bed, hugging her. The spirit's outward appearance remained the sa, but on the whole, he was a very different person. He had finally accepted his circumstances. His tendency to pretend that he was a living person, interacting with Layla and her children had ceased; he stopped trying to do sothing for Layla and her children; and he was okay with making contact with others.
But Evan was still changing. Even though he understood his circumstances, he couldn't accept it from the bottom of his heart. He still faltered and he still hoped for things to change.
Zack and Penelope were standing near the bed, smiling gently at their mother. Zack was already 20 and married, while Penelope was almost 18. Zack had grown into an admirable young man, with a great sense of responsibility, while Penny was showing her brilliance as a mortician.
For the past years, Layla dictated everything she knew to the two children, compiling everything she knew in a book. Due to her mutilated hand, it was mostly Penelope, who wrote it for her so she ended up the most knowledgeable in the matter.
Zack was traumatized due to the incident with the police officers, but managed to gather himself. Most of it was thanks to his new wife, a chance custor of their new business.
Of course, after what happened, they could not work as forensic experts in the police. Instead, Layla's children started a funeral business for the wealthy. Aside from the more common services of a mortician such as burying or burning, they also offered services of embalming, or mummifying wealthy persons.
But that that was not the story for today.
"Zack, Penelope, co here for a bit," Layla gestured.
The two approached their mother with a look of love and care. They did not know what she wished to talk about, but their mother's serious attitude forced them to stay silent.
"I am planning to end myself this night," Layla said with a smile.
'Mm…' Evin nodded.
Evan also knew it was coming. Layla lived in endless pain. She managed to hide most of it from her two children, but of course, she couldn't hide her grimaces of pain and the fever induced nights of agony from Evan. The more it happened, the more Evan was convinced that she was planning to end herself. A resolute glint had taken root in her eyes, growing stronger every year.
Of course, the spirit's expression was calm, hearing her intentions. Perhaps he even looked forward to it.
"What?" Zack and Penelope could not understand their parent's words and could only answer in a shocked and panicked voice.
"I have nothing left to do in this world, I've taught you everything I know of and I've left a book to continue the legacy of the Lockhoover family. I've paid my debt to my father. The knowledge persists. I can finally leave peacefully."
"Just because you're done with your work, doesn't an you can talk of dying like that!" Zack shouted in response. "Did you take us in just because you wanted to teach us your thods and planned to end yourself afterwards?"
"Don't be unfair," Layla replied, a cold smile on her face.
It was unfair of her to say that.
Hearing her simple answer, Zack could not think of anything to say. It was, after all, because of him that Layla ended up like this. If only he could keep his darned hands still, none of this would have happened.
"Besides, the pain in my arm would kill sooner or later. I've learned to hide the grimaces and groans, but I don't wish to live such a life," Layla said decisively. There was no hesitation in her voice.
"Please… don't do this! Stay with us! Please!" Penelope started begging her mother as tears stread across her face.
Layla tried to caress her head, but she inevitably flinched, fearing the incoming pain. She tried her best to ignore it and raised her daughter's head with her two bandaged limbs. She kissed her on the forehead and spoke.
"I love you two with my heart and I will always look after you from beyond. Although it pains , your tears and pleas will not change my decision…"
She wiped the tears off Penelope's eyes.
Of course, it took a long ti for the two children to give in to their mother's decision. Of course, they never accepted it. Zack wanted to ransack the house and rid it of poisons, but his quick wits told him that Layla would be prepared for such a reaction.
Penelope cried her heart out for the longest ti, but after an hour, an awkward silence ensued inside the room. How was one supposed to talk to soone who had planned out her death?
Layla eventually spoke.
"Thank you for respecting my decisions. Now leave, co back in the morning and tell the police that I must've mistaken my pills. The concoction that relieves my pain does not look so different from the disinfectant I use to clean bodies in the darkness. I don't want you two to be prosecuted for my attempt at death. Now leave," Layla urged.
The two children were speechless at their mother's calmness, but they could understand her. In fact, when faced with sothing like this their reaction was the calst compared to others. As people who worked with dead bodies every day, they couldn't help but think of the concepts of life and death very deeply.
In the end, they decided to respect their mother's decision.
"Thank you for telling us beforehand," Penelope muttered out, and left.
A while after her children left, Layla sat in her armchair silently, trying to ignore the pulsating pain that ca from her battered arms.
Gently sighing, she slowly dragged herself onto her bed and started clawing at the surrounding things, making a ss of the covers to make the scene look like the aftermath of a panicked struggle. The bandages that held her hands together beca undone and an unnaturally black blood bled from her hands. She whimpered from the unbearable pain, but she didn't stop until she was satisfied with her 'case'.
"It's a bit sloppy, but it's enough to convince those idiot pigs..." she smiled.
She then took out a small steel bottle from between her breasts, carefully pulled at the cork on top of it, and began to inhale its contents. Gradually, the pain disappeared and was replaced with growing excitation. Her eyelids beca heavier and heavier and just before she lost consciousness, she drank a mouthful of the embalming fluid she made.... as a tribute to her father.
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