In an instant, ten days had passed.

    Julian had to go to Neb Group in Brindley in the evening to attend to a few urgent matters. He had barely stepped out of the elevator when Esther approached him, looking concerned. “Ms. Harper is here, Mr. Ziegler.b” /b

    Julian’s steps faltered. He looked intently at Esther’s face, remaining silent for a long time. It had been two years since Willow left Neb Group, never once returning. If she hade today, it could only be because of Landon. He stood still for a moment, then asked softly, “Where is she right now?”

    Esther hurriedly replied, “I have arranged for her to wait in your office since Ms. Harper still hasn’tpleted her postpartum recovery. I noticed that she looked terribly sallow–probably due to postpartum fatigue–since it has only been ten days since she’d given birth.”

    They chatted for a while before finally arriving at the entrance of the office, where Esther pushed open the door and tactfully excused herself.

    Julian walked in and gently closed the door behind himb, /bcreating a hushed atmosphere.

    In thete May weather, Willow was dressed in a loose–fitting dress with a light wool shawl draped over her shoulders. It was clear that she still hadn’t regained her health, as her face was etched with exhaustion and her chin was drawn so sharply it looked almost fragile.

    He walked over and kneeled before Willow, his voice soft and slightly hoarse as he said, “You’re still in your postpartum recovery, Willow. Why did you suddenlye over here? How’s Gabrie? Is she taking her feedings well? Is she sleeping through the night?”

    Willow offered no reaction. She fixed her gaze on Julian and asked tly, “Where’s Landon? I want to see him.”

    Julian swallowed hard, the movement of his throat barely noticeable.

    Willow repeated her question, her voice sounding colder than before as she asked, “Where is Landon? I want to see him now. He’s the child I gave birth to after nine long months. You can’t just take him away without any exnation and deny me even a single glimpse.”

    Julian lifted his gaze to meet hers. He remained silent for a while before saying hoarsely, “I’ll bring you there.”

    It was already evening in Brindley, with the sunset casting a golden glow and the evening clouds merging in a soft, luminous haze. In the chapel deep in the mountainb, /bthe deep, resonant sound of bells rang out, echoing across the hills.

    It was then that a ck sedan slowly ascended the winding mountain road, eventually reaching Cornerstone. The chapel was surrounded by the fragrant smoke of burning candles, along with the clouds tinged with soft sunset hues encircling the area, creating an atmosphere of profound peace.

    Having pulled up at the chapel, Julian turned to Willow and said gently, “You should pull your shawl tighter. It can get quite chilly up here.”

    Willow remained silent. She tightened the shawl around herself and stepped out of the car. She then followed Julian into a vast and solemn columbarium, its high walls lined with orderly square miches–each about three feet square–containing small, personal offerings or artifacts.

    In the most prominent niche, a pair of tiny, blue baby shoes had been carefully ced, and directly below them sat a small baster urn, its surface gleaming and clear. 1

    Willow reached out, her hand trembling uncontrobly as she picked up the tiny baby shoes and gently caressed them. She then touched the cool surface of the baster urn, wondering if Landon was truly in there.

    Her thoughts then turned to Landon, a silent conversation in the hollow space of her grief. “Is it really you, Landon? It’s Mommy speaking, Landon. Is it cold there? Is it scary? It’s so cold in the mountains, Landon. Do you have anything to keep you

    warm there? Is anyone there to talk to you? Is there afortable rib for you to lie in there?”

    She held the urn close as her tears fell drop by drop, wetting the sooth surface of the exquisite baster.

    Julian’s eyes brimmed with tears. He remained silent, merely reaching out and gently wrapping his arm around Willow’s shoulder. She was still in her postpartum period, so he was worried that she would cry herself into exhaustion.

    Willow asked Julian to step outside, saying in a daze, “I’d like to have a moment alone with Landon.”

    Upon hearing thatb, /bJulian’s heart ached with sorrow. He still turned and walked out of the columbarium in the end, though, giving Willow the space she needed to be alone with Landon.

    It was already dark outside, and a gust of cold wind suddenly swept through the columbarium. Willow remained unfazed, though. She gently removed her shawl and wrapped it snugly around the small baster urn, hoping her warmth would reach Landonb, /bmaking him feel as if he were still nestled in her embrace

    She then tightly held onto the urn, tears streaming down her face.

    “It’s the only thing I can do for you now, Landon. Have you found your great–grandmother there? I’m sure she’ll take good care of you, make you some delicious stewed greens with pasta, and bake some fluffy, delicious bread for you. I’m certain she’ll also knit you some warm clothes with her softest yarn.

    “Can you hear me, Landon? Can you hear Mommy’s voice? How about a poem, Landon? How does that sound?”

    She had tears streaming down her face as she recited the poem Grace used to recite to her in her childhood, “The sky is bright, and the moon so high. And precious Landon’s sleep drew nigh.

    “Morpheus, will you spare him from your woes? Precious Landon sleeps below.

    “Soon he’ll rise, into a tall boy will he grow.”

    She suddenly broke down in tears, sobbing uncontrobly. She couldn’t help but question why Landon had lived such a short life. Her own arrival into the world had been so bleak, and throughout her pregnancy, she had envisioned a life for him overflowing with beauty and joy, promising him every happiness.

    Yet, the heavens had snatched him away from her. Why had the heavens inflicted such relentless torment upon her? Why had it taken Grace and Landon from her?

    Chapter b215 /b