Carolyn's POV:
I had fantasized about her appearance, using my and Father's faces as a blueprint, but every time I tried, it failed because I knew there was an element I would never know—the pure white witch, the woman who died for love.
But precisely because I had so many fantasies, I wasn't surprised when I saw Adele; instead, there was a calm feeling of 'ah, indeed'.
I must admit she was an exceedingly beautiful woman, with every curve and angle of her facial features perfectly in place. Her skin, pale from years of absence from daylight, displayed a morbid pallor, a kind of poignant beauty pursued in classical aesthetics.
But that head of dry, white hair ruined everything.
Dry, pale, and floor-length, the long hair mixed all the beauty into a chaotic mess, wildly displaying its owner's painful and unbearable life. All the suffering condensed into this long crystallization.
