And there stood a tall, long-limbed man, bathed in the golden light.
His impossibly handsome face looked even more chiseled, like a masterpiece painting.
Isabel froze, clearly not expecting to see Adrian here.
Her brain short-circuited for a moment, and she blurted out, "What are you doing here?"
Adrian's voice was as cool as the morning air. "Does this place have your name on it?"
“...”
Well, no.
But his presence here was bizarre.
Unable to communicate with him, Isabel ignored him and walked to her grandmother's grave.
As she set down the basket of offerings, she noticed a single white chrysanthemum by the headstone.
It was still dewy and looked fresh.
Combined with Adrian's presence, it was even stranger.
"Did you put this here?"
Adrian glanced over, his voice like frost. "I saw the flower earlier and thought it was pretty. I picked it to give to someone, but after taking a picture, I was reminded it's a chrysanthemum, used for the dead, so I just tossed it aside."
A surge of anger flared up in Isabel. "This is my grandmother's grave!"
Adrian's expression didn't change. "How would I know? I don't know her."
There was a marker at the grave, but it only had her grandmother's name and the date she passed away.
Her grandmother had forbidden them from putting their own names on it.
Besides, no one else was buried here.
She paused. Though she was angry, she couldn't bring herself to lash out.
She knelt down and carefully arranged the pastries.
After setting up the candles, she fumbled around but couldn't find the lighter.
She was sure she had brought it.


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