Chapter 930

Chapter 930:

A sudden gust of wind whispered through the cemetery. From somewhere ahead came the delicate tinkling of chimes. Brandon turned toward the sound.

A string of wind chimes swayed gently, their notes forming a soft lullaby meant to soothe a child. For an instant he could almost hear Millie’s voice—warm, tender—singing the words, “Sleep now, my dear baby p>

In his mind’s eye she was cradling their child, her hand patting a tiny bundle of joy, her lips shaping the lullaby. Then the vision dissolved.

Only two graves remained before him, the chimes trembling in the breeze. Brandon sat frozen, pierced by a sudden, unrelenting ache. A sharp pang seemed to lance through his entire being, a relentless ache.

Lowering his eyes, he noticed a dreamcatcher resting beside the stones. He remembered Millie’s restless nights, her frequent nightmares. Did she hope their children might visit her in dreams?

His fists clenched and trembled. Grief flooded him.

A short distance away, Eugene watched silently. After helping Brandon to the site, he had gone to buy flowers. Now he returned with a pair of bouquets. He hesitated at the sight of Brandon’s trembling form, but then stepped forward and placed them in Brandon’s hands before retreating again.

Seated in his wheelchair, Brandon bent forward and set the flowers carefully before the two headstones. He stayed there for a long, quiet moment, his gaze fixed on the words carved in stone.

At last, Eugene wheeled him back toward the car.

“Mr. Watson,” Eugene said softly, concerned.

Brandon’s eyes were bloodshot, his pupils slightly unfocused. “Let’s go,” he answered at last. After a pause, his voice hardened. “Find Vivian.” He met Eugene’s gaze. “We must find her p>

“Yes, sir,” Eugene replied without hesitation.

𝖁𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖈𝖊:

Later that afternoon, Millie arrived at the cemetery with Myron. She asked him to wait by the car and carried the offerings herself. Reaching the graves, she noticed fresh traces of a visitor—bouquets of flowers. Someone had been here.

Her eyes lifted toward the headstones. She called the caretaker and learned that earlier that day a man in a wheelchair had come with companions. Brandon. So he knew.

Millie’s gaze lowered, her thoughts momentarily drifting. She laid the flowers gently before the stones. Tears blurred her vision. She remembered that cloudy day when she had sat here alone, chisel in hand, carving messages into the stone—a permanent tribute to the two children she and Brandon had lost. She had thought about everything: her babies, her marriage, her father’s legacy, the people around her, and the uncertain shape of her future.

When the work was done, she hung the wind chimes and placed the dreamcatcher. “Remember to come find me in my dreams, okay?” she had whispered then. But her children had never visited her dreams. She didn’t even know what their faces would have looked like.

Now she gazed at the daisies before the headstones, tears quietly flowing down. The sun was sinking, leaving a thin streak of light across the sky.

The flowers glowed in the fading light. Suddenly the wind rose, lifting the petals and whirling them in the air. They spun and danced as though the two lost children were holding hands, circling their mother.

Message from Noah: I hope you enjoyed the chapters. I’ve also renewed the invitation to the WhatsApp community, so you, dear readers, can join whenever you like. God loves you, and I wish you all the best. ( „• ֊ •„ )੭