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Chapter 17
The staff went in for more than ten minutes before coming out, with someone following behind.
Looking at the empty hands of the two people, that sense of panic and unease surged up in Nathen’s
heart again.
He propped up the chair and stood up unsteadily, staggering a few steps.
“Where are her ashes?”
Two people heard the sense of urgency in his voice, exchanged a glance, and their faces showed
expressions of regret.
“Sorry, Mr. Cowan, I went to check the records and found that your wife mentioned how to handle her remains before her death. We have already followed her last wishes and disposed of the ashes. I’m afraid you have made a wasted trip.”
Upon hearing this, Nathen felt as if the strength that had been supporting him was about to dissipate from his body.
He clenched his fist, gritted his teeth, and struggled to lift his hand, pointing at the documents in
their hands.
Two staff members, seeing his poor complexion, could understand his desperate mood at the moment. They were also worried that the recorded content inside might provoke him, so they
hesitated and refused.
“Mr. Cowan, your wife has passed away. You should take good care of yourself, she will bless you
from heaven.”
From their eyes filled with pity, Nathen vaguely guessed that there was something recorded inside.
He felt a strong sadness welling up in his eyes, but he still persisted and opened the document.
Three different questions were printed on the white paper.
All the answers were written uniformly, with no variation.
“No.”
Two very simple characters, but Nathen saw a double image.
He tried hard to open his eyes wide, his gaze moving downwards, and saw another long line of ¡English.
He knew every single word, but as they rushed into his mind, they merged into the darkness and disappeared silently.
He closed his eyes, then opened them again, closed them once more, and opened them again, but
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still couldn’t understand this sentence.
The kind–hearted staff watched his actions, thinking that he didn’t understand, and used
translation software to type it out and handed it to him.
This time, looking at those upright square fonts, Nathen finally understood the meaning of this last
words.
“After I die, please immediately cremate me and there is no need to bury my ashes. Wait until the
first snowfall and find a place to scatter them.”
Nathen didn’t know how he had left the building.
I didn’t know how long I had been lying in the snow.
He only remembered that he stumbled and rolled down the stairs when he was going downstairs.
The soft snow cushioned beneath him, and he thought he had ascended to heaven, being in the clouds, feeling weightless.
He didn’t come to his senses until the snow melted into water by his body temperature, seeping into his clothes and freezing his skin to a dark purple.
It was already dark, and it was quiet all around. The lights in the building were all turned off, and he was alone, accompanied by the snow.
Nathen took a deep breath, and the mist rose up, blurring his vision.
He didn’t notice when the snow fell, and by the time he became aware of their presence, they had already turned into droplets of water, sticking to his eyelashes.
Like a teardrop.
But they were not tears.
Because Nathen could no longer cry.
He stared blankly at the pitch–black sky, and in the blink of an eye, he couldn’t quite tell if it was
snow.
Melanie, who was still or already burned to ashes, scattered and nowhere to be found in the world.
He could only hope and plead that these suddenly appearing elf–like pure white flowers could fall more and become even more magnificent.
To bury him completely.
