Siren Song - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"Eat."
Chang mechanically ate a little of what was put in front of her, before putting down her chopsticks.
"You only had two bites, eat more, your mother would be sad to see you starving yourself like this." ChenHua lightly admonished her and had her eat half the ate before her aunt was satisfied.
ChenHua came around the table and started to clean stuff up preserving the rest for later meals. After that she dragged a chair to the front of the kitchen sink and rummaged through the house for a towel which she draped it on the back of the chair.
After having her eat, ChenHua sat her down and washed her long greasy hair in the sink until it was clean and s.h.i.+ning again. Once clean, she towel dried it, and began to gently comb it.
Like a little doll Chang sat blankly letting her aunt do as she pleased, moving only when told to.
"There, you look much better now. Come now. Which one is your room?" Chang pointed and ChenHua led her inside and folded back the blankets. "Get in."
Chang climbed into the bed but sat there, unwilling to lay down and face the nightmares she had been avoiding.
"Sleep, I'll be here when you wake up." ChenHua pushed her down into the bed and tucked her in. Chang looked up at the woman who smiled down on her, who looked a little like her mother, especially around the eyes.
"Sleep." She brushed her hand on top of Chang's head pus.h.i.+ng back a few stray hairs. Obediently she closed her eyes, a few stray tears leaked out as she drifted off feeling the warmth on her head.
ChenHua waited until Chang fell asleep before rising from the side of her bed. Returning to the kitchen she sat down to read the obituary that Chang had started to cut out.
Above the small article, a beautiful picture of LiHua smiling stood. ChenHua wiped her eyes seeing the picture of her baby sister.
Li Hua Dumont. Born February 17, 1975, to Feng and Shu Yan, died on Sunday the 9th of December, 2018 after a long battle with brain cancer. A San Francisco native, LiHua was born to second generation of Chinese immigrants, and lived there her whole life until her tragic death at the age of 43. She is survived by a few siblings as well as her only daughter Chang Dumont, born to her and her husband Hénri Dumont, who was previously deceased. She touched the hearts of those who knew her with an definable kindness, and will be greatly mourned and missed.
After reading and rereading the article several times ChenHua set the paper down and put her head in her hands. Lightly she sobbed in regret for what was lost and couldn't be undone anymore.
'I'm glad I got to talk to you a few times after you married. Rest in peace little sister, I'll take care of Chang for you.'
Checking on Chang, who lay in her bed, sleeping gently and evenly, ChenHua slipped out to check in with her home quickly before coming back. Closing the door gently so as not to wake her, she slipped out and hurried.
