Tears fell like broken beads, and she wept worse than she had just been. Looking down at the handwriting above the embroidery, the beautiful words seemed to satirize her. A tear fell and spread gently on the word "Not late."
Not Late?
Was it not too late for them?
****
New York's late autumn was mostly sunny, the sky was very clear, with blue color, so people's mood was good. But obviously, both Irish and Cassie were not among them.
Cassie's injury recovered well, and this is the only place for Irish to be comforted. In the afternoon, she found a spare to the hospital and pushed her into the garden to breathe the fresh air. The place with the ginkgo tree must be beautiful, so Irish pushed Cassie's wheelchair to a place full of ginkgo leaves and looked up at the blue sky not far away.
She didn't know what Joseph was doing at this time.
