After arranging my funeral, Dad and Sister moved out of our old home. He told Mom that once she had processed her emotions, the family could live together again, as it would be better for Allie's recovery.

Mom made no attempt to keep them there and remained deeply entrenched in her grief for a long time.

Every day, she clutched my photo, either sitting or lying on my bed, murmuring, “Fairy, I’m sorry. Fairy, I’m sorry…”

Dad occasionally visited Mom, but all he could do was sigh at the sight.

As my soul grew fainter and my consciousness more blurred, I looked at Mom’s increasingly gaunt face and drifted over,...