The moment I called him "Uncle," tears streamed down his face, his grief overwhelming him as he wept openly in front of me.

"Your uncle always said Judie looked so much like her aunt. Now I truly understand why you and Judie are like two peas in a pod," Aunt Martha said, emerging from the kitchen with tears in her eyes, reaching out to hold my hand. I embraced them both, feeling that from now on, we were united as one.

I took them to my parents' gravesite, where a fresh bouquet of flowers lay, undoubtedly left there by the Herschels again. They were responsible for my parents' death, yet they sought forgiveness through these floral tributes, hoping for my parents' absolution. But I doubted my parents could forgive-not just for the loss of their lives, but for losing the opportunity to care for their daughter.

Uncle and Aunt Martha were inconsolable as they looked at my mother's photo, especially Aunt Martha, who wept uncontrollably. I knew she wasn't just seeing my mother's picture; she was thinking of Judie.

If Judie and I bore a striking resemblance, then Judie was the spitting image of my mother, especially in demeanor.

Uncle and Aunt Martha wanted me to live with them, but I declined. I understood their intentions of offering me a sense of family warmth, but we had never lived together, and my lifestyle and work schedule were too different from theirs. I promised to visit often, and they didn't press the issue.

Suddenly having a sense of family was joyful yet suffocating, as if there was a weight on my chest I couldn't explain. It was hard to describe, so I ended up at James's place.

Even though I owned a bar now, I just couldn't bring myself to go there. I sat at James's until closing time.

He came over, "Want to have a drink with me?"

"Sure," I replied, looking at him. "Have you lost weight? Trying a new diet?"

James had indeed lost a lot of weight, or I wouldn't have asked.

He chuckled, "Been super busy lately. For some reason, my place has become a hotspot, practically a magnet for influencers. It's been packed every day; I can barely keep up." He was telling the truth; if I hadn't called him, I probably wouldn't have found a seat to drink tonight.

"But you can't just neglect your health. Maybe hire some more staff to help out," I expressed my concern. His weight loss was alarming, almost as if he was ill.

He nodded, clinking his glass against mine, "Heartbroken?"

I tilted my head, "Is it that obvious?"

"Your eyes have lost their sparkle," James's words made my heart ache.

Yes, with

light

too. How

towest Collins gone, my sparkle left?ut

be

"He's gone, walked away," I , burying my face in

I

Bet

games, I miss him so much. What should I do?" Content Belongs FindNovel

All this heaviness was just the longing for one person, a longing with nowhere to turn.

James didn't say anything, simply accompanying me as we finished our drinks.

I had a bit too much to drink, and James insisted I stay over, but I refused.

Unable to persuade me, he arranged for a car to take me home. I didn't refuse the ride. The car stopped at the end of the alley, and I had to

walk the rest. But as I walked, felt the presence of someone behind me.

Thinking it was James, I turned, waving. "You don't need to walk me, James. I'm fine."

But there was no response, and when I turned around, there was nobody there. Huh?

Had James not followed me?

Then whose footsteps were those?

Could it be a trick of my intoxicated mind?

I continued walking, but the footsteps resumed, neither loud nor soft...

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