It was as if someone had deliberately tossed it her way. Sarah lifted her gaze, scanning the area. No one in sight.

She had half a mind to ignore the bamboo dragonfly, but after a few steps, she inexplicably backtracked and crouched to pick it up.

Dried specks of blood marred its surface, no idea it was from whom.

Her memories were fragmented, unreliable. She thought she'd be clueless about the toy, but the moment it touched her hand, she

instinctively started to spin it, sending the blades whirling into the air.

As Sarah stared into the sky, a long-buried image surfaced. Very long tago, a similar bamboo dragonfly soared above, chased

by the delighted cries of a little girl.

"Look how high it goes, Mommy! Is it because you made it? It's amazing! It flies higher than anyone else's!"

A headache began to pulse at Sarah's temples, prompting her to massage her forehead.

The toy had vanished into the expanse, and panic momentarily gripped her heart as she frantically searched the surrounding grass

and bushes.

She hunted at the lawn, but couldn't find it; then she hurriedly rummaged in the shrubbery. There, nestled quietly, lay the bamboo

dragonfly, accompanied by a tiny carved toy.

heart. With tight pressed lips, she reached out

carved wooden insect sprang to life, its craftsmanship

Cynthia. Look, what's

"Wow, thanks, Uncle!"

uncle? Don't you like the

do. I love

legs a bit

two new trinkets in hand, her pace slowed, an inexplicable

feet - a peculiar little

forehead. She stepped back,

heart racing. Once calmed, she

still alone;

she'd stayed out for twenty. Returning, she placed the trinkets in

drawer.

bring anything back, started

what have

slittle things

wanting to inform Bernard but heard Sarah say, "Mr. March will be here soon. Is

at six sharp. Nothing can

for his reaction

her face, "Do well, and after all this, Mr. March will

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