Her lips kept repeating the same phrase, her tone devoid of any fluctuations, like an emptied shell, reduced to a walking corpse.
Isabella Foster moved slightly, her body suddenly shook, making the onlookers' hearts skip a beat.
The woman behind her cried out in frenzy, "Ms. Hayley, think about your parents. It wasn't easy for them to raise you. Can you be heartless enough to have them bury their own child?"
Isabella Foster turned a deaf ear, completely engrossed in her own world.
Then, a sonorous chant was heard. It was clear and distinct, dissolving the heaviness in the air, illuminating the surroundings, and seemingly tranquilizing the wind.
The middle-aged woman turned around and was startled to see a young lady approaching. The chant had originated from her.
Although the young lady was simply dressed, there was an unforgettable aura about her. It seemed as if a soft golden light was emanating from her, forcing people away from looking directly at her.
