Dad arranged the funeral home for a decent send-off.

Mom packed my belongings and wrapped me tightly in my coat.

Since my body couldn't bend, they had to put me in the trunk.

On the drive back, they argued, blaming each other for letting me down.

In a moment of lost control and slippery roads, Dad crashed into a tree.

All three were injured to different degrees, and the car began to smoke.

Instead of checking on my brother, they rushed to the trunk.

“I'm sorry, Stella, it's all my fault,” Mom whispered, holding me close.

Dad gently fixed my hair, tears streaming down his face.

“Why, Stella? Why didn't...