Even After My Death, They Hound Me

Katrina kept a hand strictly over her pocket in which she kept the money, her body tense.

I knew what she was afraid of. This money was her only hope now, and she was willing to forgo her dignity, even her life, just for my sake.

She chuckled bitterly and said hoarsely, "I won't return the money. You'll only regret it if you insist on seeing Joshua."

She then ignored the shouts behind her and forcefully turned her wheelchair around, wheeling herself deeper into the alley.

Mom and Dad exchanged glances with each other before following her with a cold smile on their lips.

"See? I knew that it was all just an act," Mom said, adjusting her expensive fur coat, her face full of disdain. "Come on. I'd love to see just how pathetic he's become, and how long he'll keep trying to hide from us!"

The alley narrowed, with the surface becoming more uneven and filled with potholes.

Mom's high heels clicked against the filthy cobblestones, and her brow furrowed deeper with each step.

This place never saw the sun. The air was thick with the smell of mildew mixed with the stench of the sewers nearby.

"Is this a place fit for humans to live at all?"

Mom covered her mouth and nose tightly with a handkerchief. "Joshua's such an idiot for leaving home to suffer here."

I followed them, looking at the familiar alleyway.

Yes, this indeed wasn't a place fit for humans to live. But this was Katrina's home for three years. Over the years, she had given everything up to find my killer, even having her leg broken because of that.

Finally, Katrina stopped in front of a rickety iron door.

This was the basement of a building about three feet lower than ground level, and it was perpetually cold and damp down there.

"We're here." Katrina's voice was flat.

She laboriously bent down from her wheelchair and pulled a rusty key from under the doormat. The door clicked open, and an even stronger, mustier smell wafted out.

I followed Katrina into the basement.

Mom and Dad took a step back in disgust, as if some plague was lurking inside.

"Joshua! Get out here!"

Dad stood in the doorway, unwilling to step inside. He simply shouted into the void. "Don't tell me that you're still going to act all prude and arrogant when we've already come here to get you ourselves!"

Yet, no one answered. There was only the sound of the wind howling through the empty rooms.

Karina pushed her wheelchair in and didn't turn on the lights. She struck up a match instead. The faint light flickered in the darkness, illuminating her pale face. Then, she lit two white candles on the table.

The candlelight flickered in the dark. The dim yellow light slowly spread, finally illuminating the basement that was less than 100 square feet.

It also illuminated the black-and-white photograph in the center of the room, placed on the table.

I was in the photo, looking bright, happy, and handsome, with two small dimples at the corners of my mouth.

A few white flowers were lying before the portrait.

Mom and Dad, who had still been yelling at me to come out and greet them, suddenly fell silent.

Mom's expression froze, her eyes widening as she stared intently at the black-and-white photograph. Her pupils contracted sharply.

"What… What is the meaning of all this?"