Chapter 1474

Until a voice in the distance called, “My child.”

A gentle light appeared, and she stepped toward it, extending her hand to touch its glow.

Then everything shifted.

Fragments of her life surfaced all at once. Moments of joy, sorrow, fear, gratitude, celebration, and pain.

She kept walking forward, watching her past life like a movie, absorbing everything she saw. She lingered in one place for a long time, watching two children play before drifting back into her own younger days.

She wandered into a warm memory of her childhood home.

In the mornings, her mother would softly rouse her.

“Millie, sleepy girl, wake up. If your father comes upstairs and finds you still in bed, you’ll be in trouble,” her mother would murmur kindly.

Millie would spring up and bury herself in her mother’s arms.

Her mother had been young and beautiful, gentle in every way. She always allowed Millie to cling to her. Then her mother would dress her and carry her downstairs.

Most mornings, that was when Millie met her father.

He would say with half a sigh, “Holding on to your mother again. You little rascal. You know she spoils you, so you keep testing her patience. Come on now, you have plenty of lessons waiting.”

Only then would she loosen her arms, stealing one more longing glance at her mother.

Her mother would smile and kiss her cheek. “After school, I’ll buy you new clothes, alright? And that pair of heels you’ve been wanting.”

That promise always lifted Millie’s spirits, and she would follow her father to the company for classes.

Her father was strict, yet warm beneath it. Millie really adored him.

When evening came, they returned to her mother’s embrace, welcomed by the comforting aroma of dinner from the kitchen. It had been a home filled with warmth.

But one morning, her father turned to her, gently patting her shoulder.

“Sweetheart, it is time to go,” he said softly, with heavy tenderness in his voice.

At that moment, Millie finally understood everything. She remembered that she was no longer a child.

Those days had slipped far away.

“It is time,” Millie whispered, her voice unsteady.

“Yes,” her father replied gently, brushing her hair with the calm tenderness she had missed for so long.

Her heart twisted.

“What if I don’t want to go?” she murmured, lifting her eyes to the man who looked just as she remembered him.

“Dad, I am so tired.” Only before him could she speak without hiding anything. “From the day you left, everything has felt heavy.”

People had accused her, misunderstood her, pushed her into corner after corner. She had climbed out of countless dangers, holding onto the smallest bit of hope each time.