Death: Alright, I have to go now. Someone’s coming. Emily: Aunty? Death: Probably. I’ll see you again someday. Not too soon, I hope. Don’t worry about your mum too much, alright? Have a good life, kid. Emily: Bye, bye. Death: And by the way, I’m a secret. Don’t tell anyone about me, ok? Emily: Ok. Ella: Here’s dinner, Emily... are you hungry? (shocked) No... No... Louise... No... No... Emily: It’s ok, Aunty Ella. Ella: -sob-
Emily: She just had to move house.
-- Alt text: why is my four-year-old niece explaining dying to me