Mr. Ainsworth was taken aback. "What are you trying to say?"
Mrs. Ainsworth's expression was lucid. She knew her own physical condition all too well.
"I'm not trying to say anything. I just hope I can do something for our Nora before I die. That would be enough."
Mr. Ainsworth's eyes narrowed, his tone harsh. "What are you planning to do?!"
Mrs. Ainsworth said no more. She pulled her clothes tightly around herself, gave Mr. Ainsworth one last, deep look, then turned and walked into the elevator.
But the elevator didn't go down. Instead, it began to ascend.
Mrs. Ainsworth was alone in the elevator. He hadn't followed her. Tears streamed down her face.
She had tried her best, but she couldn't turn the tide. She couldn't bring their twenty-odd years of love to a proper close, nor could she secure any benefits for her daughter.
Instead, her failing health was just a burden on her daughter.
The elevator went straight to the roof on the fifteenth floor.
