Instead of a little boy in front of her now, Annette saw a young man in his mid teens now. The place he was now in looked like a far more fitting place for her to remember him in.
All around the two of them were numerous unfinished projects. Some were in the stages of drying, and others had yet to be fired. There were also quite a few sculptures missing vital parts.
The Harwood before her now seemed to be putting the finishing touches on an elaborate-looking piece. He then stepped back, like he were getting a better look at his work.
He then lifted a sledgehammer he had on a nearby table, and proceeded to smash the sculpture into countless pieces. This came as a shock to Annette, who never could imagine him destroying his own work like that.
Once the entire piece was practically bashed into dust, Harwood then dropped his sledgehammer and fell to his knees. He could then be heard sobbing for a bit before the ringing of a phone was heard.
Annette just watched as he stood up and answered it, trying to mask his tears as he gave a shaky “Hello?”
Now she listened in as he spoke to who was presumably someone he worked with. In seconds, his voice dropped into some sort of despair.
“What? They rejected the piece I sent them because of my last name? Well, it would’ve been nice to know that before sending them a sculpture I spent so much time on! …No, no. Just see if there’s someone out there who doesn’t think all Chinese people are communists.”
When he hung up, Harwood then collapsed to the floor again, crying even harder this time.
Annette didn’t have time to feel bad for him this time, though. After taking only a couple of steps, she was then violently thrown into the final memory.
Now, instead of sculptures surrounding her, it was nothing but fire. It was an all-consuming, relentless blaze that was in effect.
“Oh boy,” she said as she stepped closer in a direction not engulfed in flames. “I think I have a good idea as to what this is supposed to be.”
Her fears were soon proven correct. As part of the house collapsed behind her, she saw a now older Harwood running frantically into the clearing.
“What’s going on?!” He shouted above the sounds of destruction. “Lacy! Juan! Macy! Where are you?!”
“We’re up here, Harwood!” A woman’s voice answered him. Turning her head, Annette saw a badly damaged second floor, with three others up top. All three of them, a man and two identical women, looked utterly terrified in their situation.
Harwood breathed a sigh of relief, and made to reach them. His hope crashed, however, along with the second floor collapsing.
Now, he was so overcome with terror, he began wordlessly screaming over the horrific turn of events. It felt like one of the deepest nightmares brought into reality.
It was then Annette who began screaming as a wooden beam collapsed, falling onto Harwood’s face and bringing him down with it. Then his own screams of horror turned into ones of agony.
Annette could only squeeze her eyes shut and hold her head, howling as loud as she could manage. She almost didn’t notice when she returned to the chamber. And it was only then because she didn’t hear Harwood or the fire anymore.
Opening her eyes to the calm room, Annette then sighed, grateful that she didn’t have to witness that final scene anymore.
Just like she did before with the first five, she turned to see Harwood’s ghost. The way he looked so calm with his grin now just made her heart ache. She tried not to show her emotion as she stood before him and said the line.
“You know her sins. Now give your verdict.” Much to Annette’s surprise, Harwood’s spirit reached out and stroked her cheek. He then gave the thumbs down for ‘guilty’.
His spectral hand was still on her face when he disappeared. As soon as he was gone, Annette’s strength failed her, with her falling to the floor.
It took her a while to stand up again, in order to go through the next door.