Masking her discomfort, Xia Ling continued with the third line. "Like the irises by the road, lost in time. Unable to differentiate if the gentle you is reality or a dream…"
Her tears fell without warning. Snippets of her memories flashed across her mind. A random summer, there were huge bushes of irises by the roadside, blooming splendidly in the summer breeze. A young, tall man was standing against the light, smiling at the little girl in front of him with his hand outstretched — Xiao Ling, come home with me.
Xiao Ling, come home with me.
That voice was low and mesmerizing, like a curse, making her voice choked up.
More images flowed into her mind — the luxurious bungalows in the mountains, that man holding the girl's hand and announcing to his family. "This is Xia Ling, the girl I adopted. I hope you welcome her into the family and treat her well."
