When Jasmin arrived at her final resting place, her mother's grief was overwhelming. It still tore Ericka apart to see her friend being laid to rest.
During the semester break, Jasmin was supposed to start her studies… I will start seeking evidence, Ericka recalled.
At the burial, she noticed young people—former classmates, teachers, and their adviser. As her eyes scanned the crowd, she caught sight of Thalia quietly observing.
She appeared lost in thought, silently watching the ceremony. Ruth was there too, pressing her forehead as if unwell.
Is Ruth sick? Ericka wondered.
Though she wanted to cry, her tears felt dry—drained. She was full of sorrow, yet had no tears left to shed during this final farewell to her beloved friend.
She saw many souls, yet Jasmin hadn't made her presence known. Not once did she reach out to ask for help or speak about what had happened to her.
That's just how she is… Even knowing what I can do, even in her last moments, she didn't want to bother me.
One by one, mourners began to leave. But Jasmin's mother remained, tightly holding her daughter's photo, tears streaming down. Her husband stood beside her, the heartbreak etched deeply into his face.
"Ericka," her mother called, waiting by the path as Ericka lingered.
"Mom, you go ahead," she replied. She wanted to stay a while longer—to accompany her friend.
"Child, the weather's dangerous right now," her mother gently said, touching her shoulder.
"I'll be careful, Mom. I always know when I'm in danger."
"Even with your ability, do you realize how much danger you're putting yourself in?" her mother asked.
Ericka couldn't answer. Her emotions were tangled—her composure cracked. She kept glancing toward Jasmin's grave, blaming herself.
Her father sighed. "Don't stay out too late, Ericka."
She simply nodded. Her mother ruffled her hair, and her father hugged her. She heard their footsteps fade away as they walked off.
Looking up, the sky was cloudy—as if it, too, was mourning.
Does the sky understand how I feel?
The clash of light and darkness above seemed to mirror her heart.
Ericka approached the grave again and looked at Jasmin's picture—her radiant smile, her teasing expressions. A wave of memories flooded her, and the tears finally fell. She thought she had nothing left to cry, but grief poured out.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to dig up the earth and talk to her, beg her to wake up. This must be a dream, she thought. A terrible joke. Any minute now, Jasmin will appear beside me, laughing and sharing her stories again.
"Ericka, why haven't you gone home yet?" Jasmin's father asked gently.
She looked up and met his gaze. His eyes were filled with sorrow, fatigue, and the heartbreak of losing a child. Faye—his wife—stood beside him, her eyes swollen from days of crying.
"Ericka," Faye whispered, suddenly hugging her—an embrace aching with longing.
"My Jasmin is gone. My child is gone…" she sobbed, breaking down once more.
Ericka couldn't stop crying. How could she calm a heart that had been completely shattered?
"Why? Why?" Faye pleaded. "Who took my child from me? She was still so young! She didn't even get to graduate! I don't understand!" Her grip on Ericka tightened.
Ericka had no answers. Only sorrow.
Suddenly, Faye collapsed.
"A–Auntie!" Ericka cried out, shocked.
Thankfully, Jasmin's father caught her just in time.
"She hasn't eaten. She hasn't slept. She cries while staring at Della's picture," he said softly, holding his wife close.
"Whoever did this will pay," he said, eyes burning with fury. He looked directly at Ericka. "Go home now, Ericka. It's late. The weather's dangerous."
She couldn't find words to respond. The intensity of his grief and anger left her silent. The surroundings were eerily quiet, and everything still felt unreal.
Ericka...
A soft voice called out.
She turned around. A figure of a woman stood near Jasmin's grave, but the darkness made it hard to see clearly.
Ericka…
There it was again—her name. This time, unmistakably Jasmin's voice.
Ericka turned on her phone's flashlight and directed the beam toward the figure.
She gasped.
"Jasmin," she whispered.
It was her friend. Even though her clothes were stained with blood, Ericka knew—this was Jasmin.
Jasmin gave her a faint, sorrowful smile.
"Why? Why didn't you show yourself to me earlier?" Ericka asked, voice trembling.
Jasmin gently shook her head. "Because I don't want you to get involved, Ericka. I don't want you to get hurt."
"Jasmin, I already know what happened. I am involved."
"I came to stop you… I don't want you to end up like me. You're going to encounter someone important, Ericka," her voice trembled with worry.
"That's why I never appeared. I knew what you'd do."
"I won't let your death go unpunished," Ericka said firmly.
"I won't let you put yourself at risk. This isn't right."
"What are you afraid of, Jasmin?"
"Ellese showed me… You might be in danger. You could die," she said gravely.
Ericka smiled through her tears. "Even if I have to die… I will find justice for you."
"Please… don't do it," Jasmin whispered as she began to fade.
"Don't go through with it, Ericka…"
Then, she was gone.
Even now, Jasmin was protecting her. But Ericka had made up her mind. Her resolve was unshakable.
She would do whatever it took to bring justice to her friend—who died without ever having a chance to fight back.