The Wind Remembers You

Jonas Kimball was the nation's youngest neurosurgery prodigy, a surgeon whose hands could perform the most delicate brainstem operations. Then his wife's savior shoved him, and those hands were ruined for good. Meanwhile, his wife, Leona Chalmers, was busy helping her savior, Bastian Northcott, ground a plane and commandeer medical resources. When it came to her husband's injury, she only shrugged. "He'll understand." Jonas suddenly went quiet. He stopped confronting her. When he was framed for pushing someone and the police asked him to contact his family, he calmly wrote down the name of his three-year-old son, Remy. Behind her back, he began applying for a visa, reaching out to the National Neuroscience Laboratory, and drafting divorce papers. That was before a bowl of scalding soup hit his face, before the car sent his son's small body flying, and before he held that cold little hand and heard Remy's final words. "Daddy, having you is enough." From Norhaven City to Genvère, from a shattered marriage to the stage of the International Medicine Prize, Jonas spent the rest of his life proving that even without her, he could still thrive. Chapter 1 After he lost the ability to hold a scalpel, Jonas Kimball suddenly grew quiet. He no longer cared that his wife, Leona Chalmers, was trending for grounding a plane for the man who had saved her life. He no longer asked about her commandeering medical resources for that man or getting eight innocent celebrities blacklisted on his behalf. He had stopped to help an elderly man, only to be accused of knocking him down in a staged scam. Even when the police took him in for questioning, Jonas calmly wrote down the name and phone number of his three-year-old son, Remy Kimball, in the emergency contact field. The officer frowned. "There's no other adult we can contact?" Jonas shook his head, his eyes flat and lifeless. Before long, the maid brought Remy to the police station. The boy was crying so hard that his little face had turned red, and he threw himself into Jonas' arms. "Daddy, let's go find Mommy. She knows lots of people, so she can definitely help you..." The hand gently stroking his hair suddenly went stiff. "You're not going," Jonas said softly. "But Mommy—" "I said you're not going!" Jonas raised his voice and grabbed his son, who was already trying to run for the door. The boy was frightened by a harshness he had never seen in his father before, yet he kept struggling stubbornly. "I want Mommy! I want Mommy to save Daddy!" A sharp slap echoed through the interview room. Remy froze, too stunned even to cry. He pressed a small hand to his cheek, his eyes wide. Jonas' hands were shaking violently, and he regretted it the instant he had done it. The hands that had once held a scalpel so steadily could no longer even control the force behind a slap. He pulled his son behind him and gripped his shoulders hard, his voice dropping low. "You are not going to her. Do you understand me?" He was afraid Remy would become Bastian Northcott's next target. After all, a single shove from Bastian had sent Jonas crashing into the medical equipment, damaging his nerves so badly that he could never hold a scalpel again. Those were hands he had trained for 20 years, the only hands in the country capable of performing microvascular anastomosis in the medulla of the brainstem! Remy trembled in his arms and finally nodded through quiet sobs. "I'll listen to you, Daddy. I won't go looking for Mommy." … After Jonas had spent three days in custody, the police found complete footage on another car's dashcam that proved his innocence. As they walked out of the police station, Jonas crouched down and gently touched the faded red mark on his son's cheek. "Does it still hurt?" Remy shook his head. "You were right, Daddy. I won't go find Mommy anymore. Last time... last time I went to Mommy's office and bumped into Bastian, and Mommy locked me in a dark room. She said I was being bad." Jonas' heart clenched, and he pulled his son into a tight hug. Leona knew perfectly well that their son was terrified of the dark, yet she had still locked him up for an entire day and night when he was only three. Now neither of them dared to go to her anymore. The two of them walked for a long time before they finally made it home, only to find Leona sitting in the living room with a grim expression. "Something this serious happened, and you didn't tell me?" She stood, her voice tight with suppressed anger. "I'm your wife, and I had to find out from the news that you'd been detained?" Jonas let go of his son and signaled for the nanny to take him upstairs. "It's over. I was innocent anyway." "You—" Leona was taken aback by his coldness, and her frown deepened. "Jonas, what is going on with you? I've already explained this. Bastian saved my life. When I was in that car accident, he risked his own life to drag me out, and that's the only reason I'm still alive. "His health is poor, and taking care of him now is just my way of repaying him. Why won't you listen? Why do you insist on throwing tantrums and picking fights?" She was right. He used to confront her. Did repaying him mean spending every single day by his side? Did repaying him mean turning an entire plane around because he coughed once? Did repaying him mean taking the appointment with the nerve repair specialist that Jonas had waited three months for and handing it straight to him? Now, however, Jonas only gave a faint smile. "It doesn't matter anymore. You two have things to take care of, so I won't get in your way." Leona stared at him blankly. The husband in front of her was clearly the same man, yet there was something icy in his eyes. The Jonas whose eyes used to light up as he shared the joy of every successful surgery with her, the Jonas who used to sulk and give her the silent treatment when she upset him but always gave in first, seemed to have vanished overnight. What Leona did not know was that the man she remembered had died on the day his hands could no longer even hold a suture needle. He had died outside Bastian's VIP suite, where he heard Bastian laugh and say, "Leona, looks like Dr. Kimball's hands really are ruined. Guess he won't be doing surgery anymore, huh?" Leona had answered, "He'll understand, Bastian. Your health comes first." Even now, Leona still believed Jonas was only throwing a fit. "Jonas," she called, her voice softening as she reached for his hand. "Let's talk this through. Bastian's condition has been unstable lately, and I may have neglected you, but I..." Jonas gently pulled his hand away, avoiding her touch. "Bastian's health comes first. You should go be with him." He turned and headed upstairs. "I'm going to check on Remy." Leona stood frozen for a moment before she finally turned and left. Once he had watched her go, Jonas took out his phone and dialed a number. "Hi, this is Jonas Kimball. I'm calling about the advisor position on the Neural Interface and Repair project at the National Neuroscience Laboratory. I'd like to accept. If you could rush the visa and security clearance, I'd appreciate it. "Yes, my son will be coming with me." After hanging up, he called the lawyer he had already retained, Gilbert Underwood. "Mr. Underwood, go ahead and serve Leona the divorce agreement I drafted. Yes, send it straight to her office. Custody and my share of the assets are all spelled out, and I'm not open to mediation." When everything was done, Jonas walked over to his son's bed and thought to himself, 'Soon, Remy. I'm going to take you away from here very soon.' Chapter 2 Bastian came by on Monday morning. For once, Leona had not gone into the office and was on a conference call in the study. Bastian walked in carrying a gift basket of health supplements and immediately spotted Jonas flipping through a medical book. "Jonas, I heard you went through something awful the other day, and I've been worried sick. Honestly, Leona should know better than to leave you to deal with something like that alone." "Thanks for your concern," Jonas said, his voice just as calm and impossible to read. Bastian was clearly not satisfied with that response. He stepped closer, his gaze landing on Jonas' hands again, and his tone grew even more sympathetic. "Seeing your hands like this really breaks my heart, Jonas. Those hands won so many awards and saved so many lives. Now, though... I guess you'll never hold a scalpel again, huh?" Once, those words would have broken him. Now, Jonas only looked up and said calmly, "Yeah." Bastian was caught off guard. Leona spoke up. "Jonas, Bastian is just worried about you." "I know." Jonas closed the book and stood. "You two sit. I'll go check on the kitchen. Edna has the day off, so I made soup." Bastian watched him walk away, a shadow flickering in his eyes. He turned to Leona and said softly, "Leona, I think Jonas still won't forgive me. Does he think this is all my fault?" "Don't overthink it. He's just been... a little different lately." Leona stared after Jonas. Jonas really had made soup, a beef and root vegetable soup that he had left to simmer for three hours. With his hands the way they were, he had cut himself while chopping the vegetables. When the soup was served, Bastian accepted his bowl with a smile. "Your cooking is as good as ever, Jonas." He took a sip. Two minutes later, Bastian suddenly clutched his stomach and curled up, his face deathly pale. "It hurts... Leona, my stomach really hurts..." "Jonas!" Leona shot to her feet. "What did you put in it?" "I didn't put anything in it." Jonas looked at Bastian, his expression calm. "Don't you dare lie to me!" Leona grabbed his untouched bowl and threw the whole thing in his face. The soup was scalding hot, and Jonas did not even have time to dodge before it splashed across his face and neck. His skin instantly felt like it was on fire. The pain made his vision go black, and he staggered into the coffee table. "Daddy!" Remy came running down the stairs. When he saw Jonas' bright red face and the soup dripping from his chin, he burst into terrified tears. "Mommy! What are you doing?" Leona looked at Jonas' rapidly swelling face, her hand trembling. However, Bastian let out a weak groan that immediately pulled her attention back. "Leona... I can't breathe..." "Somebody call a doctor!" Leona shouted at the staff, then bent down, scooped Bastian up, and started for the door. "Mommy! Take Daddy to the hospital first!" Remy threw himself at her and clung to her leg. Leona glanced back at the blisters rising on Jonas' face, and her grip tightened without her meaning to. Bastian clutched her hand. "Leona, I need to lie down. I can't sit up..." Leona shook her son off. "Have them send another car for your father. Bastian needs to lie down, and there's no room!" Remy fell to the floor, struck his head on the corner of the table, and burst into wails. Leona hesitated, but only for a second. She glanced down at Bastian, then ran out the door without looking back. The roar of the engine faded into the distance. Jonas lay sprawled on the floor, his face and neck burning so badly that his whole body shook. He groped his way toward his son and pulled him close with the arm he could still move. Remy was crying so hard that he had the hiccups. His little hands reached for Jonas' face but did not dare touch it. "Daddy... does it hurt?" Jonas could not say a word. He lowered his head and buried his face against his son's small shoulder. The clock on the wall ticked on. It was an hour before the family doctor finally arrived. The doctor sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Jonas' face. "These are second-degree burns! You need to get to a hospital right now!" Jonas shook his head, his voice hoarse. "Check on my son first." Remy had a swollen lump on his forehead. He had cried himself out and fallen asleep in Jonas' arms. Jonas clenched his teeth and did not make a sound as the doctor treated his burns. When the ointment touched his skin, it felt as though it were being peeled away, yet he only kept his eyes open and stared up at the ornate crystal chandelier on the ceiling. Leona had picked out that chandelier herself when they got married. She had said, "Our home will always be full of light." The chandelier was still lit, but the home was gone. Once the doctor finished treating him, he hesitated. "Dr. Kimball, these burns... They might scar." Jonas answered calmly, "It's okay." After the doctor left, Jonas slowly walked over to the mirror. From his left cheek down to his neck, the skin was bright red, covered in blisters and swollen out of shape. It was ugly. He stared at his reflection for a long time, then went to the study and opened the safe. Inside was a document, and beneath it lay an old photo of a 20-year-old Jonas in a white coat, standing outside an operating room with his eyes shining like stars. He picked up the photo and looked at it for a long time, then he tore it to pieces. As he dropped the scraps into the trash can, his phone buzzed with an email from the lab. [Dr. Kimball, your visa has been approved. You are cleared to depart on the tenth of next month.] He replied: [Received.] After sending the reply, he went to his son's room. Remy was sleeping fitfully, still sniffling in his dreams. Jonas sat on the edge of the bed and gently patted his back with his uninjured right hand. He spoke in a whisper, as if to his son and to himself at the same time. "Remy, I'm going to take you away from here very soon. Just hold on a little longer." Outside the window, the sky had gone completely dark. The house was so quiet that he could hear the slow beat of his own heart, one thump after another, like a countdown. Chapter 3 Leona spent more than ten days straight at the hospital looking after Bastian. Jonas did not call her either. He simply kept up with his rehabilitation exercises, day after day. One night, the burns on his face became inflamed, and a low fever kept him from sleeping. He got up to go through some old research in the study. When he pushed the door open, he found Leona sitting at his desk, going through the research folder he had kept encrypted for ten years. "What are you doing?" Leona's fingers stilled, and she turned to look at him. She looked embarrassed for only a moment before her expression settled into something completely unapologetic. "Good timing. I need this data of yours." It held ten years of clinical data from his brainstem surgeries, along with the neural signal decoding algorithm he had never published. He had poured countless days and nights into every line of code and every case file. "This is my life's work." He looked at Leona. "What do you want it for?" "Bastian started a medical foundation. Your data can help him make a name for himself quickly." She pulled out the hard drive. "Your hands are ruined, so you'll never be able to finish this research. Bastian can use it to help more people and build his reputation in medical philanthropy." She said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Jonas felt his throat tighten, and the burned skin on his face grew hot. He could hear his own voice shaking. "Leona, this data hasn't gone through full clinical validation, and the algorithm still has flaws. If you hand it straight to Bastian and it ends up being used on patients, people are going to die." She frowned at him, her eyes full of impatience. "Jonas, don't be so petty. I know you don't like Bastian, but this is about helping patients. Your research will finally be put to real use. You should be happy." "I'm not being petty!" He raised his voice. "This is science, not a game! The algorithm's fault tolerance in the third stage is only 72%. That's a 28% chance of a wrong call! If it's used in surgical navigation or a diagnostic system, it's going to kill people!" Leona stood and looked at him with cold superiority. "Enough." Her voice turned icy. "You're always like this. You question everything, and you're always standing in the way. Bastian just wants to do some good, and you can't even tolerate that." She picked up the hard drive and turned to leave. Jonas grabbed her arm. "Leona, at least let me fix the flaws first—" "Let go." She shook off his hand. She looked at the sorry state he was in, and something complicated flickered in her eyes, but it vanished just as quickly. "The foundation is holding a press conference next week. I've already given the data to Bastian. This conversation is over." With that, she left. Jonas stood there without moving for a long time. The burns on his face hurt more and more, as if they were on fire. When he raised a hand to touch them, his fingertips met rough, scarred skin that was burning hot. … Three days later, the news broke. The headline read, 'Northcott Medical Foundation Unveils Revolutionary Neural Algorithm Poised to Transform Brain Care.' Bastian stood on the stage at the press conference with a gentle smile. Behind him, a giant screen displayed the core framework of Jonas's algorithm. A reporter asked, "Mr. Northcott, how were you able to complete such complex research while you were ill?" Bastian looked into the camera. "All those years I spent lying in a hospital bed, I kept wondering if there was a way to make sure more people suffering like me could get a fast, accurate diagnosis. This algorithm is something I built little by little, out of pain and hope, over countless sleepless nights." The audience broke into thunderous applause. Jonas sat on the living room couch, watching it all on TV. His face was covered in ointment, and gauze was wrapped from his left cheek down to his neck. The wound had become infected, and he was running a low fever that left him shivering. He thought back to the early morning many years ago when he had completed his first brainstem surgery. When he walked out of the operating room, dawn was just breaking, and the first light of morning was spilling through the window at the end of the hallway. Leona had been waiting at the door, and she had pulled him into a tight embrace. She had told him, "Jonas, you're like the dawn. You bring light to other people's darkest nights." Now someone else had stolen his dawn, and the thief had not felt a shred of shame. On TV, the press conference reached its high point as Bastian announced that the foundation would roll out the algorithm system to its first ten partner hospitals. Jonas turned off the TV. The room fell silent. He leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. The wounds on his face throbbed, and the fever sent waves of chills through his body. The maid, Edna Dorsey, walked over and asked carefully, "Mr. Kimball, would you like some dinner?" Jonas shook his head. Edna hesitated. "Then... should I call Mrs. Kimball and ask her to come home? You've been having a fever for three days, and she hasn't come back once to check on you." "No need." Jonas opened his eyes, his voice calm. "She's busy." Edna sighed and walked away. Jonas called each of the ten partner hospitals one by one. Every single one of them thought he was a scammer and told him to go drop dead. With no other choice, he called the lab and asked them to issue a statement right away to stop the rollout. However, Bastian had been the first to present the algorithm publicly, so it would be difficult for Jonas to prove that the work was originally his. Stopping the rollout would take time. All Jonas could do was pray that the system would be slow to reach patients. Chapter 4 Jonas waited at home for a few more days until word finally came that his travel documents were ready. He packed his bags right away and took his son by the hand, ready to leave. Then Bastian showed up out of nowhere. "Where do you think you're going?" "That's none of your business." Jonas opened the car door. "Does Leona know?" Bastian's voice suddenly rose, and he rushed over and grabbed Jonas by the wrist. "You can't take Remy!" "Let go!" Jonas shook him off, and the scars on his face pulled with a tearing pain. "Daddy!" Remy shoved Bastian away. Bastian fell to the ground, and the corner of his mouth curled into a venomous smile. "Remy, why did you push me..." He scrambled to his feet, ran to his car, climbed in, started the engine, and shifted into reverse. Jonas pulled his son back. "Remy, come here—" The Porsche suddenly shot backward. The gas pedal was floored, and the car hurtled out of control as its rear end barreled straight toward them. In that instant, time seemed to stretch and freeze. Through the car window, Jonas saw Bastian's face, alight with fierce excitement. On instinct, Jonas tried to push his son out of the way, but Remy was faster. "Daddy, look out!" Remy shoved him aside with all his strength, leaving his own small body in the car's path. There was a dull, heavy thud. Remy's little body arced through the air like a bird with a broken wing and landed on the asphalt 15 feet away, completely still. "Re... Remy..." Jonas crawled over to him, scraping his knees bloody on the pavement. Remy's eyes were still open, but his pupils were unfocused. "Daddy..." His voice was faint, barely more than a breath. "I won't go looking for Mommy anymore..." He reached out and touched the scar on Jonas's face with a small, bloody hand. Jonas took his hand. It was ice-cold. "I'm right here, Remy. Don't be scared. I'm right here..." He was barely making sense, and his hands were shaking so badly that he could not hold on to him. The wail of an ambulance siren drew closer. Bastian looked flustered. "I didn't mean to... The brakes failed..." Jonas rode to the hospital with his son in his arms. The attending physician's face was grim. "Dr. Kimball, he has a massive intracranial hemorrhage, and the hematoma is pressing on his brainstem. He needs surgery immediately, but—" Jonas finally pulled himself together. "It's in the medulla, the most dangerous spot there is. I'm the only one who can do this surgery, but my hands are ruined. Let me in there. I'll guide you, and your team can operate." "That's against protocol—" "That's my son!" His eyes were bloodshot. "Let me in!" The hematoma sat in a treacherous spot, pressed right up against the nerve bundles of the brainstem. "Go in from here and keep the angle under 15 degrees. Avoid this vascular plexus." The lead surgeon was drenched in sweat. The instruments slid into the skull and began separating the hematoma bit by bit. Jonas held his breath as they adjusted the angle. Everything went smoothly. The hematoma was cleared, and the bleeding stopped. Jonas was just about to breathe a sigh of relief when his left hand suddenly seized up and began to tremble uncontrollably. It was an aftereffect of his nerve damage, and it flared up whenever his emotions ran high. He bit down hard on his lip to bring it under control, but it was no use. His left hand shook so violently that his whole body shook with it. "Dr. Kimball?" He forced the words out through gritted teeth. "Keep going! Don't worry about me!" The surgery continued. The surgeon had never sutured through such a narrow opening before, and in the final stage, his instrument slipped by 0.3 millimeters and nicked a tiny artery on the surface of the brainstem. On the monitor, the bleeding spread out like a blooming flower. "Stop the bleeding! Stop it now!" Jonas shouted. It was too late. A brainstem bleed moved fast, and by the time they got it under control, the damage was irreversible. Remy was taken to the ICU and kept alive on a ventilator. Jonas stood outside the ICU window, staring at the small body inside with tubes running everywhere. He raised his ruined left hand and stared at it for a long time, then he slammed his fist into the wall. The bones in his fingers broke with a sharp crack, but he felt no pain. Jonas kept watch for three days and three nights before his son finally woke up, if only briefly. He was slumped over the side of the bed, holding Remy's hand. Remy opened his eyes. They were clear, just like they used to be. "Daddy..." He smiled. "There's a scar... on your face..." Jonas nodded. "Yeah. I've gotten ugly, haven't I?" "You're not ugly..." His voice was very small. "You're... the most handsome..." He paused, struggling to breathe. "Daddy... are we still... running away?" Jonas squeezed his hand. "We are. Once you get better, I'll take you far, far away." Remy blinked, tears clinging to his lashes. "What about... Mommy?" Jonas could not answer. Remy looked at him and understood. He gently squeezed Jonas's finger, as if to comfort him. "It's okay, Daddy. Having you is enough..." Then he closed his eyes, and his breathing grew fainter and fainter. The line on the monitor went flat. A shrill alarm went off. Doctors rushed in, and in the chaos, Jonas was pushed out of the ICU. He stared at his son's small figure, watching the doctors fight to bring him back, but Remy never opened his eyes again. Just like that, his son was gone. Chapter 5 When Leona arrived, Jonas was sitting beside the bed, holding his son's cold hand. "Where's Remy?" Her voice was shaking. "He's gone." Jonas did not look up. Leona stumbled backward and hit the wall. She stared at the small body on the hospital bed as her eyes slowly turned red. Then she whipped around to face Jonas, her voice hoarse. "Why... Why did you have to run? Why did you take Remy away? If you hadn't left, none of this would have happened!" Jonas slowly raised his head and looked at her. "Leona, do you know what Remy said to me at the end?" Leona froze. "He said having me was enough." Jonas stood and walked over to her. "Did you hear that? Your son died believing that having me was enough, because he knew his mother would always be with someone else." Leona's face went white. Bastian's eyes were red and swollen, and he slapped himself across the face. "This is all my fault... I shouldn't have gone over there. If only the brakes hadn't failed..." "The brakes failed?" Jonas looked at him and let out a cold laugh. "Your car had a full service three days ago. The entire brake system was replaced, so how did the brakes suddenly fail?" Bastian's sobbing stopped abruptly, and panic filled his eyes. "I... I don't know. Maybe something malfunctioned..." "A malfunction? Or did someone do it on purpose?" "Jonas!" Leona snapped. "Bastian is upset enough already. Stop making accusations!" Jonas turned and looked at her for a long time. Then he laughed. He was still laughing when he spoke. "Leona, do you know what I regret most? I regret looking up at you that day in the medical school library." He wiped his eyes, turned, and lifted his son's cold body into his arms. "Remy, let's go home." He walked out of the room, out of the hospital, and into the night. Leona stood where she was and watched him go. She wanted to follow him, but her feet felt nailed to the floor. Bastian grabbed her arm. "Leona, you have to believe me." Leona later looked into it herself and found fresh cuts made by a sharp object on the brake line of Bastian's car. However, the garage security camera just happened to be broken that day, so there was not enough evidence. Leona buried the investigation report. She told Jonas, "The accident already happened. Even if we find out the truth, it won't bring Remy back. Bastian has been having nightmares every night, and he's in a really bad place. Jonas, let it go. Don't put that kind of blame on him." Jonas had been sorting through his son's belongings at the time. He looked up and stared at her for a long time before saying, "Okay." He agreed so easily that Leona was stunned. Jonas did not look at her again and went back to sorting. From under Remy's pillow, he pulled out a drawing. It showed Jonas in a white coat, holding a scalpel and smiling. Next to it, in crooked handwriting, were the words "My daddy is a superhero." Jonas stared at the drawing and the words for a long time. Then he suddenly doubled over and began to retch. Nothing came up, yet he kept dry heaving as if he were trying to bring up everything inside him. Leona reached out to steady him, but he shoved her away. "Get out." His voice was hoarse. "Get out of here!" Leona stood there, watching his trembling shoulders, before she finally turned and left. Jonas clutched the drawing to his chest, sank to his knees, and finally broke down sobbing. It was the first time he had cried since his son died, and it tore him apart. Chapter 6 Remy's funeral was on Wednesday morning. Leona had just put on her black suit when Bastian suddenly called. His voice trembled as he spoke. "Leona... I'm not feeling well." Leona stopped in her tracks. "What's wrong?" "I'm really dizzy, and my heart is racing..." His breathing quickened. "Maybe I didn't sleep well last night, and I'm just nervous about today. But the signing ceremony starts at 9:30 am, and all those investors are waiting..." "Have a doctor take a look." Leona frowned. "I'll get my assistant to—" "No, don't!" Bastian cut in quickly. "Leona, can you come to the hotel first? I just want you here with me." Leona looked out the window. The car from the funeral home was already parked downstairs. Jonas walked out holding a small white box. His steps were slow, and his back was perfectly straight. Her voice grew heavy. "Bastian, today is Remy's funeral." "I know... I know. I wanted to be there for Remy too, but look at the state I'm in. Leona, what if I pass out on stage? The foundation just launched, and there's going to be so much press there." Leona gripped the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She looked down again. Jonas had already gotten into the car. "Bastian..." She clenched her jaw. "Leona..." Bastian's voice grew weaker and weaker. "Can you... Can you come? I really don't feel right. I'm scared I'll pass out." Leona closed her eyes, then opened them again. "Wait for me." Meanwhile, Jonas stood alone beside the glass-topped casket. A funeral home attendant asked when the rest of the family would arrive. "There's no one else," he said calmly. "It's just me." The attendant was taken aback. Jonas kept his head down, gazing at the small face inside the casket. He remembered so many moments, like Remy's first smile, the first time he said 'Daddy' and his first wobbly steps. Every memory was vivid, and every one of them cut into him like a blade. At last, the minister said, "May he rest in peace." Jonas stepped up to the casket, bent down, and pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. He spoke softly. "Don't be scared. I'm right here." The attendant came over to close the casket. The burns on his face began to ache again, throbbing as if something were burning beneath the skin. Then a news report suddenly came on the TV in the funeral home lobby. "Bastian Northcott, head of the Northcott Medical Foundation, made a grand appearance today alongside investor Leona Chalmers." On screen, Bastian wore a gentle smile and kept sneaking glances at Leona. She stood beside him with a hand resting lightly at the small of his back. Jonas stared at the image for a long time. On the day of their son's funeral, she was cutting ribbons with another man. Perhaps Jonas had gone completely numb, because his face showed no expression at all. After the cremation, Jonas brought his son's ashes home. Holding the urn, he knelt in Remy's favorite spot in the garden and stayed there. Slowly, the stinging pain in his knees faded into numbness until he could no longer feel them at all. The sky gradually darkened, and it began to rain. He was soaked through and looked utterly wretched, yet he stayed on his knees without moving. Over the sound of the rain, he began to hum Remy's favorite lullaby. "Hush now, sleep now, my sweet little boy..." His voice was soft and warped by the rain, the tune coming in fits and starts. He hummed all night long, until the sun came up. Jonas took one last look at the house where his son had grown up, picked up his passport, and murmured to himself. "Remy, let's run away together." This time, no one stopped him. He made it to the airport and took a window seat on the plane. He thought back to many years ago, when he had flown to an academic conference for the first time. Leona had wrapped her arms around him and refused to let go. Jonas had said, "It's only three days." Leona had said, "Three days is still a long time." Now, he was never coming back.