Half a year later

Lyman Smith stood in front of the French window of the Lyman mansion. In the spring sun, the yard was full of white roses. The wind blew, and the room was filled with fragrance.

"Sir, can I borrow a fire?"

It was a woman's naughty voice! Lyman Smith's back trembled. He turned back abruptly with sadness in his amber eyes.

"Nora..."

The innocent face of the woman was reflected in Lyman Smith's sad eyes. He opened his arms and gently called the woman to hug her, but when he gently called her, he could feel the air.

The woman disappeared. The position she had been standing...