Fortunately, the next day, her complexion was as bright as usual. Her hair hadn't fallen out either. Angie packed her bags to go home with a strange feeling. Before she knew it, it was the weekend again.
That night, Angie sat down at the dinner table alone with her mother. Her father, Patrick, had some urgent business to attend to and would be home late. Angie hesitated over what to say first as she cut the roasted chicken legs and potatoes.
She had asked her father and mother about Lucia and Natalia before, but they looked puzzled, saying that they had never heard of those names before. So she had no intention of bringing up the subject again.
“Mom, something strange has been happening to me lately.”
“Something strange? What?”
“Sometimes I have strange dreams...”
Maybe, just maybe, her mother knew something about Martin Silva. The idea that this man, Martin, was the key to solving the mystery of Natalia and Lucia's memories was becoming more and more clear with each passing day.
“What kind of dream is this?”
Her mother, Laura, frowned as she poured gravy over her daughter's potatoes. She didn't seem to be taking it too seriously.
“Mom. Do you know... a man named Martin Silva? I wonder if he used to live on this island.”
“Martin Silva? Well... I’ve never heard of him before.”
“Wasn’t there anyone with a similar name? He’s a man. Between twenty and twenty-five years old?”
“I don’t know that guy at all. Who the hell is that guy?”
“He appears in my dreams sometimes. He appears...”
Martin Silva insisted that she never drink the rose tea that they use so often, because then she would remember who she was before she came to the island.
Angie paused for a moment. She wanted to be able to vent her feelings, but somehow she felt like she couldn't.
“Show up?”
The hand holding the mother's knife stopped. Laura narrowed her eyes and looked at her daughter.
“He said that I had to get off this island just like he did. Mom, I...was I really born and raised on this island?”
Click, the sound of a knife hitting a plate rang out. The mother looked at her daughter with concern.
“Angie. You were talking about some girls before... What kind of dream is that? You’re acting so strange these days. Why do you keep saying strange things that make Mom worry?”
"Mom."
“No way. You and I should go to see Dr. Johnson tomorrow morning! The child is acting strangely these days, either because you are sick or because you is distracted by something. And you, your complexion is also not good these days, and you look sullen and lifeless.”
“No, Mom. You don’t need to go to the hospital...”
Angie put down her fork and knife and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to know this one thing, Mom.”
Angie looked straight into her mother's eyes. Was this really related to quitting the tea? Or was it like her mother said that she should go to the hospital? Why did she feel this way when she saw her mother and father these days? Why did she keep feeling... unfamiliar?
“Mom. I... am I your daughter? Mom and Dad’s daughter... am I?”
"What?"
“A plague spread across the continent, war broke out, and countries were destroyed... Mom and Dad came to this island with other survivors and settled down, and I was born here, right?”
“Angie.”
“And... Will we live here happily ever after? Just like now.”
“Of course! Angie, what on earth are you worried about?”
“But Mom... Is it safe outside the island now? You never know. The disease has stopped spreading, so it’s safe. There might be other survivors out there somewhere.”
“No. Don’t you remember Elliot last year? You saw with your own eyes what happened when he went outside Windy! You know how miserable it was. Isn’t the presence of the monster shark-proof that the outside of the island is still dangerous?”
“I know that. I know that, but...”
“Please stop thinking about such nonsense. I can’t do this. I think you've read too many books and can’t tell the difference between reality and fantasy. I think it would be best for you to stop reading books for a while and just focus on making clothes. Okay?”
Laura looked at her daughter with unprecedentedly fierce eyes. Angie just lowered her head without saying a word. It was the first time she had seen her mother's face so angry.
That night, Laura opened her daughter's door slightly. In one hand, she held a small bottle of medicine. She unscrewed the cap of the water bottle on her daughter's desk and tilted the bottle inside. The clear water in the bottle quickly turned a rosy color. Then, slowly, it became colorless again.
Laura put the empty bottle in her apron pocket and quietly approached her daughter's bed. Angie was fast asleep, her breathing faintly.
Laura sat down at the head of the bed and reached out her hand. The hand that swept her messy bangs was gentle. There was not a single false note in the eyes that looked at her daughter with pity. It was the eyes of a mother who was truly worried about her child, nothing more, nothing less.
“Angie. Don’t think of anything strange and just stay quiet. Until the master returns...”
Laura pulled the blanket close to her daughter's chin.
“We will be happy on this island. Forever. Forever. And...”
A strange light appeared on her face as she rose from the bed.
“To submit to fate is happiness.”
Behind her, the door closed silently.
It was actually a good sign that physical changes occurred when the components of the opium rose that had been assimilated into the body for a long time were temporarily stopped. It was a kind of transitional process for the body, which had been addicted to rose tea, to return to a normal state.
The daughter had not been drinking rose tea for some time. For some reason, she must have been avoiding it on purpose. So, another alternative was needed. Laura and Patrick wanted to protect Angie's current peace and happiness until the end. As parents, their intentions were pure, nothing more, nothing less.
The Garden of the Gods - That's what people called the rice paddies and fields that turned golden after the harvest at the end of autumn. In the 20 years since they settled on this island to escape the spread of viruses and the chaos of war, there has never been a single year of poor harvests. There have always been more abundant and bigger harvests than expected. It could only be called a blessing from the gods.
"We are the chosen ones. We are the last ones chosen by God."
The late Duke's predecessor, John Fitzroy Blackwell, always emphasized:
"Unidentified pathogens and genetic mutations have turned all the sea creatures into monsters. The few survivors left outside are also slowly dying out because they cannot find food. While we create our own community on this safe island and become self-sufficient, the world will one day become peaceful. Then, our descendants will be able to return to their own lands and start new lives."
As time went by, those who had been skeptical at first naturally began to conform. Under the leadership of the Blackwells, the residents lived without any lack.
From farming, forestry, and fishing to orchards, sheep farming, beekeeping, and villa management, the entire population was made to work for the Blackwells. But not a single person was overworked. The work was so moderate that the word “work” would hardly be appropriate, and the Blackwells were very generous and benevolent employers.
Angie stood on a hill in the intense sunlight at the end of September, looking down at the golden wheat fields. She held her head with both hands and ran them gently through it. Her hair was still intact, except for a few strands. The dark spots under her eyes were now completely gone.
The abnormal phenomena in her body disappeared. And the unidentified memories that had been gradually regenerating also stopped.
What happened? As Martin said, she never drank rose tea again. Her body had returned to its previous healthy state, but the images of Luisa and Natalia that she had managed to remember were quickly fading away. The melody and lyrics of the song were the same.
Sunset over the sea after the wind and rain have passed,
The stars twinkle quietly,
The crescent moon in spring is as beautiful as a painting,
My dear, your eyes are even more beautiful.
Next... What was it? She clearly remembered the whole song.
Angie's empty gaze followed the shadow down the hill toward the chapel. It was her mother, Laura Ridsdell. Her father, Patrick, opened the chapel door and ushered her in. The couple soon disappeared from Angie's sight.
The spire of the chapel sparkled like a jewel, reflecting the sunlight. Angie grimaced slightly, her eyes dazzled. Everything was dazzlingly beautiful. Beautiful and peaceful. As always, Cullinan Island was a little paradise, orderly and bountiful.
That night, Angie sat down at the dinner table alone with her mother. Her father, Patrick, had some urgent business to attend to and would be home late. Angie hesitated over what to say first as she cut the roasted chicken legs and potatoes.
She had asked her father and mother about Lucia and Natalia before, but they looked puzzled, saying that they had never heard of those names before. So she had no intention of bringing up the subject again.
“Mom, something strange has been happening to me lately.”
“Something strange? What?”
“Sometimes I have strange dreams...”
Maybe, just maybe, her mother knew something about Martin Silva. The idea that this man, Martin, was the key to solving the mystery of Natalia and Lucia's memories was becoming more and more clear with each passing day.
“What kind of dream is this?”
Her mother, Laura, frowned as she poured gravy over her daughter's potatoes. She didn't seem to be taking it too seriously.
“Mom. Do you know... a man named Martin Silva? I wonder if he used to live on this island.”
“Martin Silva? Well... I’ve never heard of him before.”
“Wasn’t there anyone with a similar name? He’s a man. Between twenty and twenty-five years old?”
“I don’t know that guy at all. Who the hell is that guy?”
“He appears in my dreams sometimes. He appears...”
Martin Silva insisted that she never drink the rose tea that they use so often, because then she would remember who she was before she came to the island.
Angie paused for a moment. She wanted to be able to vent her feelings, but somehow she felt like she couldn't.
“Show up?”
The hand holding the mother's knife stopped. Laura narrowed her eyes and looked at her daughter.
“He said that I had to get off this island just like he did. Mom, I...was I really born and raised on this island?”
Click, the sound of a knife hitting a plate rang out. The mother looked at her daughter with concern.
“Angie. You were talking about some girls before... What kind of dream is that? You’re acting so strange these days. Why do you keep saying strange things that make Mom worry?”
"Mom."
“No way. You and I should go to see Dr. Johnson tomorrow morning! The child is acting strangely these days, either because you are sick or because you is distracted by something. And you, your complexion is also not good these days, and you look sullen and lifeless.”
“No, Mom. You don’t need to go to the hospital...”
Angie put down her fork and knife and wiped her mouth with a napkin.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to know this one thing, Mom.”
Angie looked straight into her mother's eyes. Was this really related to quitting the tea? Or was it like her mother said that she should go to the hospital? Why did she feel this way when she saw her mother and father these days? Why did she keep feeling... unfamiliar?
“Mom. I... am I your daughter? Mom and Dad’s daughter... am I?”
"What?"
“A plague spread across the continent, war broke out, and countries were destroyed... Mom and Dad came to this island with other survivors and settled down, and I was born here, right?”
“Angie.”
“And... Will we live here happily ever after? Just like now.”
“Of course! Angie, what on earth are you worried about?”
“But Mom... Is it safe outside the island now? You never know. The disease has stopped spreading, so it’s safe. There might be other survivors out there somewhere.”
“No. Don’t you remember Elliot last year? You saw with your own eyes what happened when he went outside Windy! You know how miserable it was. Isn’t the presence of the monster shark-proof that the outside of the island is still dangerous?”
“I know that. I know that, but...”
“Please stop thinking about such nonsense. I can’t do this. I think you've read too many books and can’t tell the difference between reality and fantasy. I think it would be best for you to stop reading books for a while and just focus on making clothes. Okay?”
Laura looked at her daughter with unprecedentedly fierce eyes. Angie just lowered her head without saying a word. It was the first time she had seen her mother's face so angry.
That night, Laura opened her daughter's door slightly. In one hand, she held a small bottle of medicine. She unscrewed the cap of the water bottle on her daughter's desk and tilted the bottle inside. The clear water in the bottle quickly turned a rosy color. Then, slowly, it became colorless again.
Laura put the empty bottle in her apron pocket and quietly approached her daughter's bed. Angie was fast asleep, her breathing faintly.
Laura sat down at the head of the bed and reached out her hand. The hand that swept her messy bangs was gentle. There was not a single false note in the eyes that looked at her daughter with pity. It was the eyes of a mother who was truly worried about her child, nothing more, nothing less.
“Angie. Don’t think of anything strange and just stay quiet. Until the master returns...”
Laura pulled the blanket close to her daughter's chin.
“We will be happy on this island. Forever. Forever. And...”
A strange light appeared on her face as she rose from the bed.
“To submit to fate is happiness.”
Behind her, the door closed silently.
It was actually a good sign that physical changes occurred when the components of the opium rose that had been assimilated into the body for a long time were temporarily stopped. It was a kind of transitional process for the body, which had been addicted to rose tea, to return to a normal state.
The daughter had not been drinking rose tea for some time. For some reason, she must have been avoiding it on purpose. So, another alternative was needed. Laura and Patrick wanted to protect Angie's current peace and happiness until the end. As parents, their intentions were pure, nothing more, nothing less.
***
The Garden of the Gods - That's what people called the rice paddies and fields that turned golden after the harvest at the end of autumn. In the 20 years since they settled on this island to escape the spread of viruses and the chaos of war, there has never been a single year of poor harvests. There have always been more abundant and bigger harvests than expected. It could only be called a blessing from the gods.
"We are the chosen ones. We are the last ones chosen by God."
The late Duke's predecessor, John Fitzroy Blackwell, always emphasized:
"Unidentified pathogens and genetic mutations have turned all the sea creatures into monsters. The few survivors left outside are also slowly dying out because they cannot find food. While we create our own community on this safe island and become self-sufficient, the world will one day become peaceful. Then, our descendants will be able to return to their own lands and start new lives."
As time went by, those who had been skeptical at first naturally began to conform. Under the leadership of the Blackwells, the residents lived without any lack.
From farming, forestry, and fishing to orchards, sheep farming, beekeeping, and villa management, the entire population was made to work for the Blackwells. But not a single person was overworked. The work was so moderate that the word “work” would hardly be appropriate, and the Blackwells were very generous and benevolent employers.
Angie stood on a hill in the intense sunlight at the end of September, looking down at the golden wheat fields. She held her head with both hands and ran them gently through it. Her hair was still intact, except for a few strands. The dark spots under her eyes were now completely gone.
The abnormal phenomena in her body disappeared. And the unidentified memories that had been gradually regenerating also stopped.
What happened? As Martin said, she never drank rose tea again. Her body had returned to its previous healthy state, but the images of Luisa and Natalia that she had managed to remember were quickly fading away. The melody and lyrics of the song were the same.
Sunset over the sea after the wind and rain have passed,
The stars twinkle quietly,
The crescent moon in spring is as beautiful as a painting,
My dear, your eyes are even more beautiful.
Next... What was it? She clearly remembered the whole song.
Angie's empty gaze followed the shadow down the hill toward the chapel. It was her mother, Laura Ridsdell. Her father, Patrick, opened the chapel door and ushered her in. The couple soon disappeared from Angie's sight.
The spire of the chapel sparkled like a jewel, reflecting the sunlight. Angie grimaced slightly, her eyes dazzled. Everything was dazzlingly beautiful. Beautiful and peaceful. As always, Cullinan Island was a little paradise, orderly and bountiful.
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