Chapter 513

The next morning, Charlene and Helena set out for the cemetery.

On the gravestone, in the faded photograph, Old Mr. Ross's hair was entirely white.

The Ross family had always looked young for their age.

When Sybil divorced all those years ago, Old Mr. Ross had been just over fifty, with barely a streak of gray in his hair.

Charlene remembered it clearly: less than a year after Sybil's accident, his hair had turned completely white.

He'd died of illness.

It was only last year that Charlene learned his sickness was, in part, the result of years of heartache he'd never managed to let go.

If he hadn't fallen ill, he might still be alive today.

Helena was the first to tear up, thinking of how, even in his final days, Mr. Ross never stopped worrying about his beloved Sybil; how, after all these years, Sybil still hadn't managed to move on and start a new life, just as he'd hoped. Supported by Vernon, Helena knelt beside the grave and gently traced the photograph with trembling fingers. "Oh, my dear..."

She wanted to say that their precious daughter still hadn't healed, that she hadn't lived up to his hopes, that she was sorry. But when the words reached her lips, nothing came out. She just stroked the picture and let her silent tears fall.

She let go of Jasmine's hand and turned her

in the air, Jasmine looked up at Charlene,

shook her head gently,

hour before they finally left


a few close friends

when Charlene came back, she

the Youngs', Dowager Young-who was about

paused when she spotted

daughter? Minnie, right? Met

it's been two

and she's grown

and nudged Jasmine to greet

Young hesitated, then couldn't help but ask, "Did

Charlene and Helena had told everyone that Thorne was

here, people naturally wondered

grandfather's grave. That was two or three years

and Charlene herself hadn't yet realized she and Thorne would

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