“As you already know, this is your last day here.”
We are here in the front beach, where they have prepared our breakfast. The four of us are all at the same table again, listening to the same person who welcomed us on our last dinner before the first death was recorded.
She’s standing at a mini stage that they had prepared in front of us, wearing a white dress that doesn’t suit her and the coldness here.
It was already seven but the morning breeze was still so cold. Almost all of us are wearing jackets, but she's just using a thin cloth which was just enough to cover her under garments. I admire her love for fashion, but it's not just right.
“It is so saddening that we haven’t even toured you around, and didn’t even provide you a good memory that you can always look for, someday.”
