When Memory Fades But Justice Remains

On the seventh day after my daughter's tragic death in a car accident, the killer was sitting in my husband's passenger seat.

My husband, a top-tier lawyer, was mounting her defense.

I scrambled for evidence outside the courtroom while he protected her inside.

Until I fell gravely ill and remained in a coma for half a year.

When I woke up, I stopped pursuing the truth. I stopped asking questions hysterically.

Because I had started to forget my daughter's voice.

The sound of her calling "Mommy" had become blurred in my memory. Even her face was beginning to fade.