After breaking up with Jack Croft, I found out I was three months pregnant. I raised our little Rosie on my own for five years. But working three jobs took its toll, and I died suddenly from a stroke. I floated in the air. And then I saw him. Jack, now a famous actor, was knocking on my front door. 01 It took a long time for the door to open. "Who are you?" It was my daughter, Rosie, who answered. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the lock. Her eyes were wary as she looked up at my ex-boyfriend, her own father. Seeing it wasn't me, Rosie immediately tried to shut the door. Jack held it open, his brow furrowed. "Where's Sienna?" Rosie thought for a moment, then looked up at him, her face breaking into a bright smile. "You're looking for my mommy? She's not home. She's at work." Jack's expression soured. "Where's your dad?" he asked. It's you! Rosie's father is you! I cried out from my place in the air, but he couldn't hear me. Rosie thought for a moment. "My daddy is far away making lots of money. Mommy says he'll come get us when he's made enough." Jack's frown deepened. Then he let out a self-deprecating laugh. He muttered to himself, "Heh, I must be crazy. To actually think you would wait for me." With that, he turned to leave. But he paused. "What's your name?" "Rosie." "Mommy says I'm her little treasure, so my name is Rosie," she said proudly. Jack’s gaze searched her face, as if looking for some kind of proof. But in the end, he said nothing more. He got into his long, black limousine. I watched the car drive away, screaming, Don't go, Jack! If you leave, what will happen to our Rosie? She's only five years old! How will she survive on her own? I whispered to my daughter, who was blinking at the dust kicked up by the departing car. Rosie, darling, chase after your daddy. Mommy's gone now. He's the only one who can take care of you. But Rosie couldn't hear me either. "What a strange man," she said, and closed the door. In that moment, I wanted to slap myself. Why didn't I tell her who her father was sooner? Why didn't I ever show her a picture of him? This was all my fault. It didn't matter that I was dead. But my daughter… what would become of my daughter? 02 Rosie sat with her little legs dangling, waiting for me to come home. The last rays of sunset faded. The sky grew dark. I should have been home by now. Rosie was afraid of the dark. But I was already dead. My coworker had just received the notice from the hospital. I hadn't made it. She needed to inform my family. But when she opened my phone, she found the "family" section of my contacts completely empty. She did know, however, that I had a child. So that evening, the phone at home rang. Rosie toddled over to it on her short little legs. "Hello?" Her sweet, childish voice made my coworker's eyes well up. She didn't know how to tell a little girl that her mother was dead. That she was never coming back. "Mommy?" Rosie's voice was filled with excitement. "Are you working late again? It's okay, I'm fine. I'm not hungry at all. I just ate the bread you bought." She patted her round little tummy. "Rosie… your mommy… she just passed away." Rosie asked, confused, "Where is 'passed away'? It's okay, I'm sure Mommy will take me with her." Once, because of a work assignment, I had to go to the next state for a business trip. I didn't feel safe leaving Rosie at home alone, so I took her with me. It was her first time on a long journey. She was thrilled on the train, pointing excitedly at the scenery outside the window. So now, Rosie just thought I had gone on another trip. My coworker sighed, not knowing what else to say. She hung up the phone. In the end, she represented my company and had my body sent for cremation. All that was left of me was an urn of ashes. 03 That night was excruciatingly long. It was the first night I never came home. Every so often, Rosie would run to the door to see if I was there. But the darkness would quickly frighten her back inside. She ran back and forth like this many times. Finally, overcome with sleepiness, she fell asleep, clutching the teddy bear I had bought her. Dawn broke. The rooster crowed. She startled awake and rushed to the door again. Seeing I still wasn't back, a flicker of disappointment crossed her face. But she quickly comforted herself. "It's okay. Mommy is just busy. She'll be back soon." Having eaten nothing all night, her stomach rumbled. She had to make do with the bread I'd bought. She opened a carton of milk I had left. Imitating me, she tried to heat it up with some hot water. "Mommy says I can't drink cold milk, or I'll get a tummy ache," she said to herself, holding a pot full of water. But her hands were so small. How could she possibly lift it? I was frantic, trying to tell her not to do it, but it was useless. As Rosie stood on a stool, trying to place the pot on the stove, her strength gave out. Water spilled everywhere. The pot crashed onto her little foot, which immediately began to swell. My heart ached as if it were being carved by a knife. But I was also grateful it wasn't boiling water. Rosie let out a soft sob. Then she held her foot and blew on it. "Mommy's not here, so Rosie will blow on it herself. Then it won't hurt." She wiped her tears and moved a stool to the front door, her eyes fixed on the entrance. "Rosie won't cry. When Mommy comes back, she'll praise me for being brave." Rosie was so good, so sensible. So sensible it broke my heart. I wished, in that moment, that she would resent me, blame me for being such an irresponsible mother. But she just sat there, waiting so patiently for me to come home. 04 Two hours later, a car pulled up in front of our house. My coworker knocked on the door. Rosie, thinking it was me, was ecstatic. She ran so fast that she tripped and fell. She scraped her leg on a sharp stone. But she only frowned for a moment before scrambling back up. When she opened the door and saw it wasn't me, she finally lost control. She burst into tears. "Mommy! Mommy, why aren't you back yet?" she wailed. "Rosie's foot is swollen, and my leg hurts from falling, but I was so brave! But Mommy still isn't back! Mommy doesn't love Rosie anymore! Does Mommy not love me anymore?" Rosie's sobs were heart-wrenching. My own heart shattered into a million pieces. … My coworker rushed to comfort her. She found the first-aid kit, disinfected Rosie's leg with alcohol, and put a bandage on it. Once everything was settled, my coworker brought in my urn and the belongings from my office. Rosie didn't understand. But then she saw a photo of us at the amusement park, taken not long ago. In the picture, I was holding her, and we were both smiling happily. She recognized me. "Miss," she asked, "are these all my mommy's things? Then where did my mommy go?" My coworker held back her tears and pointed to the urn. "Your mommy… she's in here. If you miss her, you can hug it and talk to it." Rosie shook her head. "How could my mommy turn into an urn? She's not a magical monkey. Only magical monkeys can transform like that. You're lying." She hugged the photo to her chest. "This is my mommy." Then she gave it a loud smooch and smiled sweetly. My coworker sighed and placed the urn on a high shelf. She looked around. "Where's your father? Are you all alone in this house?" Rosie's head drooped. "Mommy said Daddy went far away to make money. I've never seen my daddy." My coworker was in disbelief. "Don't you have any other family? Grandparents?" Rosie shook her head. My coworker could no longer hold back her tears. She swept Rosie into her arms. "You poor child. You're so little. How could your mother bear to leave you all alone?" "Mommy would never leave me!" Rosie retorted. "Mommy loves me the most!" My coworker placed a card in Rosie's hand. "This is the compensation money from your mother's company. There's twenty thousand dollars on this card. The pin is six eights. Keep it safe. Don't lose it." Rosie nodded seriously, clutching the card tightly. Because we were poor, I had taught her from a young age that money was a good thing and must be taken care of. Now, she remembered. After some thought, my coworker called the local child services agency. It was a place for children without homes. I was filled with gratitude. I bowed to my coworker from my place in the air. Thank you. If she could get into an orphanage, at least my Rosie would survive. 05 When the people from child services came to pick Rosie up, she refused to go. She clung to the doorframe, wailing. "You're kidnappers! Don't take me, I'm not worth any money!" The social workers didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The woman in charge crouched down and spoke to her gently. "I'm not a kidnapper. We're taking you home, Rosie." Rosie frowned and told them very seriously, "This is my home. If you take me away, Mommy won't see me when she comes back. If she can't see me, she'll be worried." I covered my mouth, tears streaming down my face. The social workers exchanged a glance, their own eyes moist. They tried to coax her. "Rosie, sweetie, your mommy asked us to take you to this new place. She has to be away on business for a while and won't be back, so she asked us to take care of you." "And there are lots of other children there, just like you. You won't be lonely." Rosie listened. She blinked her big eyes at them. "Really?" "Of course." Only then did she slowly let go. But just before getting into the car, Rosie ran back into the house. She came out with the teddy bear I had bought her and the photograph, hugging them tightly. The car started moving. It was Rosie's first time going on a long trip with strangers. Her earlier bravado crumbled. Fear and anxiety washed over her. She finally broke down and cried. "Mommy, I'll be a good girl. I'll listen. Please come get me soon, okay?" I followed the car, floating along. Wherever Rosie went, I would go. But she couldn't see me. And I couldn't touch her. 06 On her first day at the children's home, Rosie was unusually quiet. She just stared out the window. Every time someone passed by, she would widen her eyes, looking to see if it was me. When she realized it wasn't, her expression would fall. A few curious children came to talk to her. "Why are you in the orphanage?" Rosie answered seriously, "My mommy has something to do, so she sent me here. But she'll be back to get me soon." A little boy seemed to scoff at her naivety. He snatched the teddy bear from her hands. "Your mommy abandoned you. She's not coming back for you. What's this? I'm playing with it." Rosie, furious, charged at him and pushed him to the ground. "You're lying! My mommy would never abandon me! That's the teddy bear my mommy gave me, give it back!" The boy, not one to back down, scrambled up and pushed Rosie to the ground. He was a year or two older and much stronger. He sat on top of her, pulling her hair and clothes. He tore the teddy bear, and cotton stuffing spilled out from its broken body. "I'm not wrong! Your mommy abandoned you! All the kids here were abandoned by their parents!" he taunted. "It's just a stupid toy, I don't want it anyway." Rosie clutched the broken teddy bear, fighting back with all her might. "You're a liar! I don't believe you! Don't touch my bear, my mommy gave it to me!" The commotion brought a teacher running. She pulled them apart. After finding out what happened, she scolded the little boy harshly. But he didn't think he was wrong. "I wasn't wrong! Her mommy isn't coming back for her! She didn't believe me and she pushed me!" He made a face at her. Rosie stood there, her hair a mess, her clothes stained with dirt. She looked like a defeated little hen. But she still insisted, "My mommy would never abandon me. You're trying to trick me." After that, Rosie became even more withdrawn. The other children stopped talking to her. They would whisper among themselves that she had been abandoned by her mother but refused to admit it. Whenever Rosie heard them, she would quickly walk away. But I saw her. I saw her go to a secluded spot, hug her broken teddy bear, and cry silently. "Mommy, is it true what they said? Did you really abandon me?" I gently wrapped my arms around her, just as I used to when I held her to sleep. Rosie, Mommy is always here. Mommy would never abandon you. Mommy will always be by your side. 07 A month passed. Rosie ate very little. She slept very little. Her once-round cheeks were now gaunt and thin. The sparkle in her eyes was gone. She no longer looked out the window or at the door. She no longer pestered the teachers, asking, "Is my mommy coming to get me today?" But today, the children's home was unusually bustling. The director mentioned that Jack Croft was coming to visit the children. I learned that after he became a big star, he had donated a lot of money to the home and came to visit every year. I knew why. We had both come from this very home. I was overjoyed. If he saw Rosie, he would surely realize I had passed away. And then, he wouldn't be so heartless as to leave my Rosie in an orphanage, would he? After all, we were once so in love. A large crowd gathered at the entrance of the home, waiting for the arrival of the philanthropist, Jack. Even the children swarmed to the gate. Only Rosie remained, watching the commotion with indifference. Rosie, go to the gate! Your daddy is coming! If he sees you, maybe you won't have to stay here anymore. You can have a good life, and Mommy can finally rest in peace. She couldn't hear me. But she picked up a pen and, in her childish, crooked handwriting, wrote: Rosie is going to find Mommy. Don't look for me. She placed the note next to her pillow. Then she set off, walking toward the gate. But she didn't join the crowd. She ran in the opposite direction. I was shocked and panicked. Rosie, what are you doing? Where are you going? She ran faster and faster. I thought she had accepted the orphanage, accepted the reality that I would never come back for her. It wasn't until I saw the note that I understood. She was leaving the children's home. If I wasn't coming for her, she would find me herself. … A Maybach pulled up at the gate. Jack's agent, Alex, escorted him out of the car. The crowd surged forward. No one noticed Rosie slipping away. So close. They were so close. If only Jack had seen her. Now she was out there, all alone. How would she survive?
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