Chapter 14

　　The house was the same as before. It hasn't changed at all. 　　But the woman at home was gone and will never come back. 　　Charlie dragged his drunken body to the table and stared at a table of food. 　　On the table were yesterday's leftovers, which were all his favorite food. She had dragged her sick body and had forced herself to cook all afternoon, but he had not eaten a bite. 　　The dishes were intact on the plates, as if the hostess had just gone out for a moment and would come back soon. Charlie dragged a chair and sat down at the table. He picked up his chopsticks and stuffed a cold dish into his mouth. 　　The food hasn’t spoiled yet. The taste was familiar to him. 　　Charlie sat alone at the table, eating as he imagined her busy in the kitchen. She should be coming out anytime, holding a pot or a dish, smiling. 　　The warm orange light of the candle swayed in the living room, and Charlie's shadow was stretched out. 　　"Dad, she'