Su Meimei gulped visibly.
Qiao Lian slowly walked to the picture on the ground, bent over and picked it up from the pulp.
The roses had already left their mark and soiled her precious memory.
Qiao Lian stared at the picture and attempted to clean it with her sleeve. Soon, the brim of her eyes were filled with hot tears, but she held her eyes wide open so that the tears would not fall.
Once, twice…
The rose pulp stain was lighter, but there was still a pink tint on the picture.
She didn't dare use any force to rub off the tint, fearing that it would damage the print.
She bit her lip with strength, staring intently at the picture, and then she slowly looked up at Su Meimei.
