Chapter 1

I had Alzheimer’s disease.

My son Albert said that instead of dragging on like this, half-dead and half-alive, I might as well die and be free.

My mind had always been foggy, but Albert’s words pierced through me and jolted me awake.

How could I bear to be a burden to Albert, the child I had loved with my whole life?

Albert, my greatest wish as your mother is for you to be healthy and happy.

If I have become your burden, then I will go...

But why are you crying like that?

My mind could not tell east from west, north from south, let alone day from night.

Most of the time, I could not even clearly remember who I was, and only a few hazy sensations and sounds remained.

But today, my senses seemed to be shattered awake by the foul stench of urine after I wet my pants.

That filthy feeling, wet and sticky, mixed with a sharp ammonia smell, yanked me out of the haze.

My son Albert was crouching in front of me, using a warm towel to wipe the stains on my thighs little by little.

His movements were gentle and careful, so gentle that even someone half-dead like me felt warmth.

But his brows were twisted into two tight knots, as if they were about to snap.

Albert was thirty-five this year, and he was the greatest pride of my life.

Back then, when he was born, his cries were loud and strong, and I hoped he would make something of himself.

He really did not let me down, getting into a good college, landing a good job, and marrying a kind wife.

But what about the Albert in front of me now?

His hair was a mess, his eye sockets were sunken like two bottomless pits, and his stubble looked sharp enough to stab someone.

His whole body looked like a cabbage wilted by frost, even its leaves curled and yellowed.

It was all because I dragged him down.

I opened my mouth, but only a strange “haah, haah” sound came from my throat, like a dying fish.

I wanted to say “I’m sorry,” and I wanted to tell him that I should not have gotten this sick and should not have caused him so much trouble.

But those words, and all the guilt surging in my heart, were stuck in my throat, and not a single one could come out.

My daughter-in-law Elise stood nearby and handed over a clean pair of pants.

There were also two huge dark circles under her eyes, and exhaustion showed clearly in her voice:

“Albert, maybe... we should send Mom to a care home.”

“You haven’t had one full night of sleep in almost two weeks, and your body will break down if this keeps going.”

Albert said nothing, but his hands suddenly paused.

With that pause, the despair he had kept bottled up for too long crashed through the dam of reason like a flash flood.

He suddenly threw the towel in his hand into the basin, sending water splashing everywhere, and cold droplets splattered all over my face.

“A care home? You make it sound so easy!”

“Do you know how much that costs every month? Am I supposed to keep working or not?!”

That voice carried despair, collapse, and the madness of someone forced to the edge of a cliff.

He did not look at Elise, nor did he look at me.

He only stared hard at the stain on the floor that had been soaked by the splashed water, the floor I had dirtied.

Then I heard that sentence.

He said, “Mom is dragging on like this, half-dead and half-alive, so she might as well leave sooner!”

“For her and for us, it would be a release!”

“Release...” It made my heart suddenly stab with pain.

I looked at my Albert, who once clung tightly to my leg and cried to stop me from leaving when I went out to buy groceries.

I looked at my Albert, who once lay beside my bed and fed me porridge spoonful by spoonful when I was sick with a fever.

Now, he was hoping I would die.

I had become the price of release.

I did not cry or make a scene, and only took advantage of the moment when he and Elise began arguing about the care home.

Silently, like an ant crushed underfoot, I moved toward the door little by little.

I put on those old leather shoes with worn-out toes, the pair Albert had bought for me, saying they were comfortable for older people.

I had to leave.

I could not be his burden anymore.

This family could only be released without me.