When There Is Nothing Left But Love (Ashton And Scarlett)

Chapter 643

Nora turned to me and queried, “Scarlett, if we indeed get to go home this time around, what would you want to do most of all?”

What did I want? That question lingered in my mind as I continued trudging forward, deep in thought.

There wasn’t any food I was especially craving. After a moment’s pause, I concluded, “I want to see the person I miss most, give him a hug, and apologize to him face-to-face.”

Nora seemed taken by surprise. Then she curiously pressed, “Is it somebody you’re in love with?”

I gave her a faint smile but declined to reply.

Night had fallen when we finally reached saw signs of human life. The village we’d arrived at was located in quite a rural area of the mountains, and perhaps due to its inaccessibility, there didn’t seem to be many inhabitants around.

From the number of lamps we’d counted shining in the dark, there were probably thirty to forty households scattered throughout the village.

“Let’s find a place to hunker down for the night,” Nora suggested, already making her way towards the door of the nearest cottage.

“Woof! Woof!” A dog suddenly rushed out into the yard and began sounding the alert at our sudden intrusion.

We clung to each other, terrified. Fortunately, the dog was leashed to a rope. It strained against its tether, barking continuously.

The owner of the cottage had evidently heard the ruckus. Out stepped a middle-aged man with tan, weathered skin.

understood what he was trying to say. After a while, Tabitha gasped. “We

hadn’t brought us any closer to home. We’d even

Upon seeing our confused faces, the owner of the cottage seemed to further mistake our intentions. He waved his axe at us threateningly in a

woman, approximately sixteen years of age, ran out of

conferred with the man for a while. He then grew

a few hesitant motions with her hands in return, trying to

did, however, let us into his home

clay walls were caked with soot, doubtless from the fire that

used decades ago. The lamp burned dimly at a bare fifty watts, probably to

in a neat stack in a corner. The roof of the cottage was, in fact, a tent stitched

blackened dirt that covered the

two bowls from a cabinet and placed them before

man continued to gesture furiously. He seemed to be

steeped in chili. Nora recoiled

starting dish. Shall we try it?” Tabitha exclaimed rather adventurously. She

for a whole day, we dug in rather gratefully. The flavor of the pickled onions, spicy with

a few days since we’d really tasted anything. The pickled

in a corner. They gazed at us with curiosity and awe,

them. Along with her hand signals, she deliberately spoke a few

to understand that we were here

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