Glenda

— God! Glenda looked down at her body. “Wet and wounded, it exuded a burning smell, but surprisingly, it no longer caused either horror or nausea. — Will I remain like this forever?

“No, silly, you can create any illusion you like,” the father answered lovingly. And Glenda looked at herself again, her arms and legs were already in luxury clothes, her hair was combed, and in the mirror she noticed a pleasant pink blush.

— Who are all these people?

— Think.

“I understand!” the girl exclaimed joyfully and sadly at the same time. “Since you, my dad, Iver, are a neighbor from the plane, then the rest are also dead passengers.”

— So. Fine. “Didn’t Jack remind you of anyone else?” the gray-haired man smiled.

— Uncle Samuel! — now Glenda said cheerfully.

— Fine. Was mom here?

The girl thought about it. They had little contact with their mother as children. She was more of a daddy's girl: she was always tinkering in the garage, going fishing with him, shooting plates in the fields with a gun. And my mother spent all her time in the city, running a small office, until she got sick. Despite the rarity of meetings, Glenda loved her, especially lullabies before bed, but having lost her early, she completely forgot.

— Police station manager. — Prickly salty tears flowed down the girl’s tender cheeks again. The man pressed her against the flannel shirt.

— And the woman who gave you an IV?

— Linda, childhood friend. — Glenda said with disgust.

— What about Jornas, Catherine and Graham?

The girl lying on her father’s shoulder raised her head.

— I do not know them.

— Right. These are participants in the very crime for which you took a million for failure to solve. — the father said dejectedly and a little sternly. The censure came in very handy here. Glenda understood that everything could have gone differently if she had taken that dirty money. In the end, she would still be alive.

— So there was no Denmark?

— No.

— How do I know so much about her?

— As a child, I told you about her after business trips, brought gifts, photo cards, and you listened to everything with your mouth open and listened to every detail.

— And this house is haunted?

— No more than your imagination. Our house.

— And the scream in the middle of the hall?

— It was my help to you. But you created this terrible cry yourself.

— Dying airplane passengers?

The man just nodded, pursing his lips and looking at his daughter knowingly.

— So now I’ll stay here forever with you, mom and Uncle Samuel, and then we’ll go to heaven or hell?

The man laughed kindly.

— You can return there, be born again and, having matured, correct your biggest sin. In eighteen years, or even earlier, you can reach criminal politicians and their families, expose the most terrible crimes, save people from tyrants and murderers, eradicate injustice. Or… — he paused. — stay here, but there is no hell or heaven here, there is only your imagination and nothing more.

— But I will forget everything.

— Yes.

— How can I not do the same thing again?

— You won’t do it anymore.

Glenda nodded and hugged her father tightly.