“Ralda, I didn’t mean that,” Quentin said urgently, “but you killed Kimberly. You can’t escape the law, and Reynaldo won’t let you go. I’m the only family you have left, and I’m afraid something will happen to you.”

Moreover, all of this is a misunderstanding. Dr. Laurent has already admitted that it was her own mistake that caused her mother’s death. Why do you have to doubt her?

Ralda, promise me, okay? Don’t think about those guesses anymore, and don’t fight with Kimberly anymore, you…”

“Did my mother’s life go in vain?”

I coldly said to him, “If you are here to persuade me to let go of that wicked woman, then you can leave. Get out!”

Quentin looked at me with a sad gaze, and after a long pause, he wearily said, “I have already taken care of my mother’s funeral arrangements. Her ashes will be taken to the cemetery this afternoon for burial.”

I covered my mouth and sobbed, my heart aching so much that it trembled.

I no longer had a mother, what a cruel fact.

Freybourne had two days of continuous snowfall.

The heavy snow covered the road leading to the cemetery.

When we arrived at the foot of the mountain, all of us got out of the car and walked up to the cemetery.

Quentin walked at the front, holding my mother’s ashes.

I walked with my mother’s ashes on his right side.

Following were some relatives and friends.

My father also came, his eyes red from crying, his face full of sorrow.

I just feel ironic; when she was alive, he didn’t cherish her. Now that she’s dead, who is he showing this sad face to?

The snow was obviously trampled by many people, turning wet and muddy.

The road was slippery, and we walked slowly as a group.

The cold wind was bleak, the heavy snow was flying, and the sky above the cemetery was pale, with a thick sense of sadness lingering in the air.

As we entered the cemetery and climbed the steps, a group of people came towards us.

Through the wind and snow, I saw Reynaldo.

Originally, his mother was also being buried today.

Mikaela’s funeral had just ended, and Reynaldo and his group were walking down the mountain.

His face was calm, but there was a cold and distant look in his eyes and eyebrows that was intimidating.

I brushed past him, but he didn’t even glance at me. He was wearing a black coat, and his whole demeanor was colder than this icy weather.

I pursed my lips, feeling a sharp pang of bitterness in my heart.

Arriving at a brand-new tombstone, I looked at the photo on it, and my eyes welled up again.

In the photo, my mother smiled so kindly, but I can no longer see her, nor hear her voice.

Quentin placed my mother’s urn inside and then knelt in front of the tombstone, bowing his head.

My father also knelt in front of the tombstone, crying his heart out.

I believe that my dad truly loved my mom. It’s just that people have their flaws, and in the face of great temptation, how many can stay true to themselves?

However, this is not enough to be a reason to forgive him.

He, like Quentin, was wrong, and he never deserved to be forgiven!

Surrounded by wailing cries, it was already impossible to distinguish what was true and what was false.

I knelt down and burned paper in front of the tombstone in silence.

My father cried with snot running down his nose, his eyes swollen and red, as if he could faint at any moment.