Freya had worked at the mortuary for a long time and had seen all kinds of departed souls. But the one
before her could only be described as utterly tragic.
Wilson seemed to have suffered a severe blow. He sat alone in a corner, one hand clutching at his hair
as if he wanted to pull off his entire scalp.
“We, as a couple, have always been kind to others. Why would something like this happen?”
“My son, my dear son-”
Freya lifted the sheet for a glance and quickly covered it again.
There was a commotion at the door, and Amy’s cries filled the air. She had cried until she had no
strength left, and despite the nurses’ attempts to stop her, she still rushed in.
“Let me see my son, my Pearson-
Pearson Wilson, the son of Duke Morton Wilson.
At the age of nineteen, he lay here.
Freya supported Amy, trying to lead her back to the hospital room to rest.
But Amy shook her head vigorously. She struggled to approach the bed.
Freya understood why Amy fainted at first glance.
Any mother would collapse after seeing her son’s mangled body torn in two and covered in blood and
flesh.
Young Wilson seemed to have been thrown out of the car, crushed and dragged for a long distance to
the point where his face was almost unrecognizable.
He even lost an arm.
Amid her overwhelming grief, Amy did not even care who was in front of her.
Anyone between her and her son had to step aside and let her see him.
Freya had some skills, but her body became cumbersome after getting pregnant.
A mother who lost her child possessed boundless strength.
Amy almost pushed Freya down.
Wilson hurriedly got up from the corner and stood before the pushing bed.
“Amy, Amy, you should go back now.”
Amy’s tears kept flowing. Her voice was hoarse, and she cried with exhaustion. “I want to see my son. I
want to see my son.”
Wilson nodded repeatedly. “You will see him.”
Sometimes, people had to face harsh änd relentless reality.
Freya and Radley stayed at the hospital until the afternoon. Wilson and Amy’s emotions finally calmed.
down a little, but just a little.
No one dared to mention Pearson’s name in front of Amy.
Sitting on the hospital bed, Amy murmured, “Pearson is gone. He doesn’t want his mom anymore.”
Freya felt a pang of sadness.
Wilson stood up, looking at Freya and Radley standing in the room.
“Thank you both for your help today. There are family matters and matters of cooperation to discuss
another day.”
Freya clenched her hands tightly, looking at Amy on the bed, “I’m worried about Mrs. Wilson-”
Wilson sincerely spoke, looking at Freya’s belly with incredibly tender eyes.
“You are pregnant, and I heard that Florin has customs where pregnant women should not participate
in such things.”
They were having a conversation when a foreigner rushed in through the door. This person was
Wilson’s
assistant.
He spoke to Wilson in Iternian.
Freya understood that Pearson’s situation was now dire, and even if they transported him back to
Iternia, it would be best to prepare his appearance.
The assistant went to the Caltun mortuary to find a mortician, but the mortician expressed their inability
when they saw Pearson’s final photo.
Freya tightly clenched her hands.
Amy, standing nearby, heard the assistant’s words and covered her face, crying.
“Why can’t we even have one last look at him?”
The mortician cared for the emotions of the living and the dignity of the deceased.
Freya tightened her grip and said, “Mr. Wilson, if you trust me, I want to be Pearson’s embalmer.”
The room fell silent, and Wilson turned to look at Freya, his gaze showing some confusion and anger.
“Miss Kaufmann, I appreciate your suggestion, but my son is not a toy. I need to hire the most.
professional-”
Freya pursed her lips and said, “Mr. Wilson, you misunderstand me. I graduated from Evergreen
University with a degree in forensic medicine, and I am also a professional mortician. I believe Pearson
would prefer someone familiar to arrange his final appearance.”
Wilson froze, and Amy also looked up at Freya.
Freya’s expression turned serious. “There won’t be a more professional mortician in Caltun than me. I
just
want to let Amy see her son once again and allow Pearson to depart in peace.”
Amy, on the bed, burst into tears.
Wilson’s assistant hesitated momentarily. He spoke in Iternian, roughly explaining that he had indeed.
heard at the mortuary that the most skilled mortician was a Miss Kaufmann, who was currently on
vacation.
Freya pursed her lips. She was forcibly “on leave” by the mortuary, but that was not important.
In the end, Wilson reluctantly agreed.
However, Redley’s expression turned cold. “Freya, have you really decided?”
His gaze shifted towards her pregnant belly, filled with deep concern and worry.
“It’s fine,” Freya reassured, looking at Redley.
She did not care about any customs. She knew she was pregnant, but Pearson’s condition was
extremely gruesome.
Preparing the body would probably take a day and a night.
With Wilson’s approval, Freya brought Pearson to the mortuary.
As she placed Pearson on the table, she examined him closely.
A whole arm needed to be reconstructed.
The bent areas had to be straightened, and the missing flesh and skin needed to be replaced.
The most troublesome part was the face.
Pearson’s face was completely “lost.”
Freya asked Wilson for a photo of Pearson.
She asked everyone to leave, so only she and Pearson remained in the embalming room.
With the embalming fluid in her hands, Freya first set Wilson’s embalmed arm aside.
She wore a mask and gloves as she began to lean forward, meticulously repairing what could still be
fixed
on Pearson.
After the delicate mending, Freya was utterly exhausted. And half day had already passed.
She felt tired when she exited the mortuary and saw a few people waiting silently on the benches
outside.
Seeing Freya emerge, Radley immediately stood up and walked over to her. “How’s your body? Can
you manage to continue?”
“I can manage, just a bit tired from standing. I’ll bring in a high stool in a moment.”
Radley’s face turned stern as he checked the time.
“You have to eat lunch before continuing your work.”
Freya glanced silently at Wilson and Amy sitting nearby. She understood their urgent feelings.
“No need. I don’t have an appetite right now.”
Freya drank half a bottle of water, then returned to the mortuary.
It was midnight, and Radley’s face had dimmed as he was pissed off.
He even had the impulse to rush in, forcefully pull Freya out, and send her home to rest on a bed.
And she should eat something before resting!
Wilson noticed Radley’s unpleasant expression, and now he was much calmer.
As a pregnant woman, Freya took the initiative to do this job.
Wilson felt grateful and understood Radley’s feelings. “Mr. Monaghan, thank you for agreeing to let
Miss Kaufmann help us.”
Radley’s eyes stared fixedly at the mortuary door, his voice cold.
“I’m not helping you. I’m just… unable to stop her.”
As he spoke, the coldness subsided, leaving behind a hint of helplessness.
At midnight in the funeral parlor, there were not many people around.
The three of them sat in the corridor, faintly hearing sounds from inside.
Freya kept working.
Amy wanted to see her son from the window a few times, but it had an old-fashioned latch, and the
curtains were inside that she could not move it.
The sounds could pass through, but the view was completely blocked.
Suddenly, a very gentle voice was heard.
“Pearson, it’s time to turn you over.”
Freya looked at Pearson, who had been repaired almost completely, and spoke tenderly.
That was the attitude toward a living person.
Tears streamed down from Amy’s eyes. She was very grateful to Freya for treating her son this way.
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