It was said that on the day Flora was kidnapped, she had just finished a prenatal check-up. Oscar was supposed to be with her, but he had to leave for an urgent matter at the company and took the bodyguards with him.
That was when the tragedy struck. Overcome with grief, Mr. and Mrs. Moore blamed Oscar, believing his negligence led to Flora's death.
“Flora, it’s me, Vonnie,” Yvonne whispered, kneeling before the headstone and placing the yellow roses she had brought in front of it.
Yellow roses were Flora’s favorite when she was alive, a flower as pure and beautiful as she was.
“Flora, I look different now. I wonder if you’d still recognize me,” Yvonne said, subconsciously touching her own cheek.
If Flora were still alive, she probably wouldn't recognize her at all.
Yvonne sat down on the ground beside the headstone, resting her head against it, just as she used to lean on Flora's shoulder when she was young.
She rambled on, talking about the years that had passed, about how she had died and been reborn as Yvonne.
She talked until she was tired, then closed her eyes, leaning against the cold stone. The only response was the whistling wind in the cemetery.
Memories of their childhood flooded her mind.
She and Bennett would be laughing and playing in the yard while Flora watched from the side, a gentle smile on her face as she said, “Bennett, don’t bully a little girl.”
There was a tall apricot tree in the Moore family's yard. When the apricots were ripe, Bennett would climb the tree and toss them down to the girls.
Flora and Yvonne would gather the fruit, eating as they went. By the time Bennett climbed down, the apricots were all gone.
She was sure she had seen him leave with the Moore family. Why was he back at the cemetery?
“Are you going to tell me you were just passing by again, Ms. Jones?” Bennett looked down at her, his dark eyes bottomless, a faint, unreadable smile playing on his lips.
Her current identity had absolutely no connection to Flora's life. There was no way to explain her presence, so she decided to just give up trying.
“Think whatever you want,” she said, getting to her feet. She brushed the dirt from her skirt and started to leave.
However, she had been crouching by the grave for too long, and her legs had gone numb. The moment she took a step, her legs gave out, and she stumbled towards the steps.
Just as Yvonne braced herself for a nasty fall, a strong, powerful arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a warm, solid chest.

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss
Hi ... Could you please publish another novel .. The mocked missed hidden crowns.. thank you 🙏🏻...
Oh wow, definitely hooked on this. Great story. Thank you....
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