On the way to the cemetery, Lizetta Gardenia was in a somber mood, silent throughout the journey.

Remington Dashiell reached out, drawing her cold hand into his warm, large palm, enveloping it securely, and never let go.

Perhaps it was the warmth of his hand, or maybe she was grateful to him for giving their little Daisy the dignity in her final resting place, and a spot for Lizetta to visit when she missed their child. The cemetery was located on the outskirts of Zion City. As they arrived, the last traces of the sunset faded into darkness.

The wind picked up, and despite being the most prestigious cemetery in Zion City, with its scenic hillside and well-maintained grounds, it couldn't shake off a sense of solitude.

Remington kept holding Lizetta's hand, guiding her up the steps, passing rows of tombstones.

A cemetery caretaker descending from the hill didn't shy away upon seeing Remington; instead, he greeted him with a smile.

"Mr. Dashiell, visiting the little master again, I see. Looks like we might have a change in the weather soon."

"Mr. Jackson, I'll be leaving shortly," Remington replied, nodding at the older man as he continued to lead Lizetta up the hill.

It was unusual for Remington to bring a woman along, and as they passed, Mr. Jackson couldn't help but scrutinize Lizetta.

Surprised by Remington's politeness towards this man, Lizetta met Mr. Jackson's gaze and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

Mr. Jackson, however, turned back to watch their departing figures, sighing to himself, realizing this beautiful woman must be the child's mother.

well-matched pair,

she saw the inscription on the tombstone: "Beloved child, Daisy," with their names listed below. Instead of a photo, there was an image of a cherubic baby smiling with chubby cheeks - innocent

instantly blurred with tears as she crouched down, touching the image of the child's face, her voice

Remington crouched beside her,

used a 4D

to generate what Daisy would've looked like at about 100 days old using

technology." en

still here, she would probably look just like this

this is what you looked. like. Mommy's so sorry for only getting to know now... for only

blurring more.

en

mother's intuition or something else, Lizetta felt an overwhelming

worried she might be overcome with grief, pulled her from the gravestone to embrace

more tears. You promised me, remember?

in sorrow, momentarily forgetting to

never did anything for

filled with

his voice soft

up from his embrace,

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