Chapter 4
When those four words fell, my dad suddenly stood up.
“Did you make a mistake? She’s only twenty-six. How could she die from drooling?”
Dr. Grant’s face instantly darkened.
“It wasn’t drooling that killed her.”
He said each word clearly.
“She had obvious signs of swallowing difficulty and respiratory muscle weakness. After saliva and stomach contents were aspirated, she couldn’t cough them out effectively, which led to suffocation. In plain terms, you locked a person who couldn’t even cough to save herself into a small room with no emergency call device.”
The hallway fell dead silent.
Dr. Grant turned to look at Megan in the corner, his gaze as cold as a blade.
“Who approved the sealed confinement? Who took away her medicine and assistive devices? Who stopped the door from being opened after she showed blue lips and trouble breathing?”
A little color drained from Megan’s face.
She still tried to keep up appearances.
“Doctor, we didn’t know she had such a serious illness. She and her family never told us honestly...”
“Didn’t tell you?”
Dr. Grant gave a cold laugh.
“She had tests done at our hospital three months ago, and I personally wrote the follow-up recommendation. The chart clearly states: suspected motor neuron disease, difficulty swallowing, family accompaniment required, avoid being alone, seek medical care immediately if breathing becomes uncomfortable.”
My mom suddenly looked up.
“Medical chart?”
It was as if she had just remembered something, and her voice got softer and softer.
“She showed me... but...”
But she didn’t believe it.
That chart had been stuffed by her into a kitchen drawer, under a pile of takeout coupons.
The hospital morgue was cold.
I lay on the gurney under a white sheet.
My dad didn’t dare come close.
He stood at the door like all the strength had been pulled out of his body.
My mom suddenly rushed over and ripped off the sheet.
“Zoe, don’t sleep.”
Her voice was shaking so badly it could barely hold together.
“Mom won’t let you film anymore. We’ll go home. I’ll make you some porridge. Didn’t you say porridge was easy to swallow? I’ll make it really, really soft, okay?”
My eyes were closed.
They would never open again because of one of her words.
She reached out and touched my face, and the moment her fingers hit my skin, she froze as if all the blood had stopped moving.
“Why is it so cold...”
she murmured.
“Aren’t you the one who hates being cold the most? Get up. It’s so cold in here. What if you catch a chill?”
At that moment, Dr. Grant came over and handed her my personal belongings bag.
“This was found in your clothes during resuscitation.”
Inside the clear bag were a few things.
A wrinkled saliva towel.
Half a copy of a medical report soaked with sweat.
A resignation letter.
And a small voice recorder the production team hadn’t noticed during filming.
I bought that recorder after I quit my job.
Because my fingers were getting less and less cooperative, and I kept making mistakes when typing, I could only use voice memos to record the changes in my body.
My mom pressed play with trembling hands.
My slurred, strained voice rang out from inside.
“May 3. Brushed my teeth in the morning. Couldn’t hold the toothbrush in my right hand. Dropped it four times.”
“May 17. Choked while drinking water. Coughed for a long time. Chest hurts.”
“June 2. Mom said my drooling was disgusting. I didn’t do it on purpose. I just can’t swallow.”
“June 20. The company asked me to resign. My manager said my drawing speed was too slow, my hands were shaking too much, and they were worried I’d cause a safety accident. I actually didn’t want to leave. I really loved that job.”
In the recording, I paused for a long time.
Then I said softly:
“I just wish Mom and Dad could go to one follow-up visit with me.”
“I’m not unwilling to work.”
“I don’t want to become like this either.”
My mom held the recorder and swayed like she was about to fall.
My dad snatched the resignation letter away.
It was written very clearly.
Due to the employee’s worsening physical condition and inability to complete job duties, the employment relationship is terminated by mutual agreement.
It wasn’t that I refused to work.
It was that I could no longer work.
My dad stared at those words, his eyes slowly turning red.
Then he suddenly slapped himself hard across the face.
The crack of it rang out especially loudly in the morgue.
“I yelled at her that day.”
His voice was hoarse.
“She held this paper and tried to explain to me, and I said she was playing the victim. I told her nobody would ever hire someone like her.”
My mom started frantically searching through the bag like a madwoman.
“What else? What else did she leave? She must have left me a message too.”
Dr. Grant looked at her, his voice icy.
“She said a lot while she was alive, but you didn’t listen.”
That sentence made her go silent instantly.
She knelt beside the gurney, pressed her forehead against the cold metal frame, and let out a beastlike sob from her throat.
“Zoe, Mom didn’t know... Mom really didn’t know it was this serious...”
But I floated nearby, very calmly thinking:
You didn’t not know.
You just chose not to believe it every single time.