Chapter 7

New Year's Eve.

Andrea was in a private ward. In the distance outside the window, the city's brilliant lights merged into a single glow, and she could occasionally hear the muffled, dull thud of firecrackers.

The television was on, the volume turned very low, showing the loud and festive New Year's Gala.

The phone screen lit up, looking particularly piercing in the dim light by the bed.

It was a video call from Julian.

Andrea stared at the flashing icon for a long time.

Finally, she used all her strength to slowly lift her trembling hand and press the answer button.

The screen lit up with Julian’s face.

"Andrea!" Julian’s voice came through, filled with joy. "Have you had your New Year's dinner? Are you watching the Gala?"

Andrea did not point the camera at herself. She simply leaned the phone against the pillow, letting the camera face a corner of the ceiling.

"I ate a little," she said softly, her voice nearly drowned out by the television. "I'm watching it."

"Why won't you let me see you?" Julian asked, his tone carrying its usual intimacy. "Have you lost weight again? I told you to eat properly."

"I haven't," Andrea said, still not moving the camera.

At that moment, her mother’s cheerful voice came from nearby: "Julian, are you on video with Andrea? Tell her to show her face and give us an early New Year's greeting!"

Macy’s crisp laughter could also be heard faintly.

Andrea’s heart constricted.

"Mom wants to see you." Julian turned the camera toward them.

Andrea saw her mother and Macy appear in the corner of the screen. They were sitting on a sofa with fruit platters and snacks in front of them, watching TV.

Macy was wearing a red sweater that made her skin look fair and her smile sweet. Her mother was also in new clothes, a satisfied smile on her face.

"Andrea, quick, give your mother a New Year's greeting!" Martha laughed at the camera.

Andrea’s fingers curled, but she still didn't move the phone.

She looked haggard and gaunt now, her complexion grey and her hair thin. Even a hat couldn't hide her illness.

She didn't want anyone to see her like this, especially not at a moment of "family joy." She didn't want to be the one to spoil the atmosphere.

"I'm feeling a bit unwell and don't want to move," she made an excuse, her voice dropping even lower.

The other side went quiet for a moment.

Then, her mother’s voice rose again, the laughter fading into a clear tone of displeasure and complaint. "Are you still angry? Blaming us for not taking you on the trip? Andrea, you’re the older sister—why must you compete with your sister for everything? You're an adult now; you're not sensible at all."

"Mom, don't talk to Andrea like that," Julian’s voice cut in. He turned the camera back to himself. "You know Andrea isn't feeling well."

He gave Andrea a reassuring smile and then stood up, seemingly walking to a balcony or window. The background noise became quieter, with the faint sound of wind and the clearer pops of distant fireworks.

"Andrea, look at the fireworks."

He pointed the camera out the window.

On the screen, magnificent blooms of fireworks were indeed exploding in the night sky—vibrant and multi-colored, lighting up the darkness for an instant before vanishing into wisps of smoke.

It was beautiful.

Andrea watched the fleeting brilliance, but her vision grew increasingly blurred.

The sound of the Gala on TV, Julian’s rambling voice talking about the trip, his worry for Snowy that had turned into relief, and his promise to bring back local snacks for her...

All the sounds began to grow distant.

"Andrea? Are you listening?" Julian seemed to sense her silence.

"Yes..." she breathed, her voice as thin as silk.

On the television, the atmosphere of the Gala reached its climax. The hosts and the audience began the loud countdown together:

"Ten!"

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

From the direction of the distant city center, a collective roar of firecrackers rose to welcome the New Year.

"Seven!"

"Six!"

"Five!"

Julian’s voice overlapped with the countdown on the TV. He raised his voice, filled with joy and blessings: "Andrea! Happy New Year! We’re about to—"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

In the very last second, the monitors in the hospital room suddenly let out a sharp, continuous

Beeeeep—

The hand that Andrea had been using to feebly shield the camera finally lost all its strength. It fell limp, resting against the white bedsheets.

The phone slipped from her powerless fingers, tumbling onto the soft pillow.

On the other end, Julian was still shouting excitedly, "Happy New Year! Wait for me to come home, Andrea!"

Chapter 8

"Andrea? Andrea? What happened? Did you drop your phone? Andrea?"

Julian raised his voice, shouting at the phone screen which now showed only a blurred view of bedsheets and the ceiling.

Fireworks continued to explode outside the window, casting flickering lights across his face. The brief sense of relaxation brought by the New Year was rapidly replaced by a trace of inexplicable unease.

However, before his shouts could elicit a response, Macy’s cheerful voice called out from the living room of the hotel suite behind him:

"Julian! Come here, quick! Mom says we have to have a toast together to celebrate the New Year! Stop being on the phone!"

Following closely was Martha’s smiling, urgent voice: "Julian, it's the New Year! Whatever you have to say can wait until we get back! Come over, we’re all waiting for you!"

Julian frowned and shouted "Andrea?" into the phone twice more. The only response was a faint, monotonous drone—seemingly from some kind of medical equipment—and the even more muffled sound of a television.

Maybe she dropped the phone and the signal is bad, he thought.

The warmth and lively urging from behind diluted his unease. Perhaps Andrea was just exhausted and had fallen asleep, letting the phone slip to the floor.

She had been like this lately, always lacking energy.

He finally pressed the end-call button, and the screen went dark.

He turned and walked back into the brightly lit, warm living room.

Half-finished glasses of red wine and juice sat on the dining table, and the singers on the New Year’s Gala were still performing cheerful songs.

Macy, her cheeks slightly flushed and her eyes sparkling, handed him a glass of wine.

Martha wore a satisfied smile, and though Arthur didn't say much, his expression was relaxed.

"Come, Happy New Year! I wish our family many more days like this, and many more years to come!" Martha was the first to raise her glass, her voice full of contentment.

"Happy New Year!" Macy chimed in immediately, her crisp voice full of anticipation for the future.

"Happy New Year," Julian said, raising his glass to clink with theirs.

After a sip of wine, Julian felt a void somewhere in his heart, like a small gap left behind by that abruptly disconnected call.

"That's just like Andrea—it's the New Year and she doesn't even have the initiative to call and give us greetings; you had to be the one to call her." Martha put down her glass, her tone carrying her usual dissatisfaction and criticism of Andrea. "She didn't even show her face on the call and went silent after just a few words. She’s probably throwing a tantrum again. She doesn't act like an older sister at all; Macy would never be like that."

Hearing this, Julian’s brow furrowed again unconsciously.

It was true; Andrea’s recent behavior was unnervingly "calm," almost deathly so.

Unlike before, when she would occasionally show a hint of grievance or dissatisfaction regarding Macy, she now seemed to accept everything, as if nothing mattered anymore.

If she were here...

The thought suddenly surfaced. If she were also in this warm, lively room, sitting by his side, what would it be like?

She would probably just sit quietly in the corner, pale-faced, forcing a smile to go along with everyone’s laughter, just like she did at Martha's birthday dinner.

This imagined image made Julian’s heart tighten, and a surge of indescribable irritability washed over him.

He immediately cut off the thought and interrupted his mother’s continued complaining.

"Mom, it's late, and we’ve had a long day of fun. Let’s get some rest," he said, putting down his glass. "Didn't you say you wanted to visit the nearby ancient town tomorrow?"

Martha checked the time and let out a yawn. "True, I'm getting older; I can't stay up like I used to. Macy, you should go to sleep early too."

"I know, Mom," Macy replied obediently.

Julian saw his parents back to their room and watched Macy enter the guest room next door.

"Goodnight, Julian." Macy turned at the door and gave him a radiant smile.

"Goodnight," Julian replied with a smile. The strange feeling caused by Andrea was largely dissipated by the bright, charming face before him.