Chapter 213
Tomorrow was New Year’s Eve.
In past years, by this time the Xander estate would already be decorated for the holiday, warm and festive. But now everything was draped in white for mourning.
The temperature had dropped to fourteen degrees below freezing. Thick clouds smothered the sky, blocking out every trace of sunlight.
The stone pavement by the side gate of the Xander estate was bitterly cold and unforgiving.
Winter remembered how Mrs. Xander Sr. had personally gone to the house of the distant relatives who treated her like an unwanted burden and brought her back to the Xander estate herself.
Holding her close, Mrs. Xander Sr. had said, heart aching, “Such a sweet little girl, and none of them wanted you. Well, I do. I want you. I’m going to make them open their eyes and see that our Winnie is loved. From now on, you have a home again.
When Mrs. Xander Sr. found out Winter was being bullied at school, she had those students‘ parents brought to the estate that very night for a talk, then made it known that the Xander family would never do business with them again.
When Winter got sick with a fever and cried out for her mother in a daze, it was Mrs. Xander Sr., already in her sixties, who held her all night, coaxed medicine into her, and kept cooling her down.
When Steve picked on her, Mrs. Xander Sr. made him apologize a hundred times. Then she told Winter, “An apology is one thing. Our Winnie still has every right not to forgive him p>
The dress Winter wore to her eighteenth birthday had been made by Mrs. Xander Sr. herself. With her reading glasses on, she had pored over fashion magazines one after another so Winter could be the most stunning, one–of -a–kind princess there that day.
Mrs. Xander Sr. had said, “Anything other girls have, our Winnie will have too. And not just that. She’ll have more, and she’ll have better. Who could ever be prettier than our Winnie p>
She had also said, “Winnie, remember this. You were never a burden. You are Heaven’s gift to me. You’re my sweetest little blessing p>
Winter kept replaying those memories in her mind, over and over, sinking so deeply into them she could barely pull herself back out.
“Winnie p>
An urgent voice seemed to come from far away.
“Winnie p>
William called out again, but Winter stayed kneeling there without moving, like a statue.
She was dressed far too lightly, kneeling on that freezing stone, and the sight of it made William’s heart ache.
He strode over, shrugging off his coat as he went. He draped it over her shoulders and helped her up from the ground.
Then his hand stilled.
“ Grandma’s gone. I should be here on my knees,” she murmured without lifting her head. “She doesn’t want to
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see me, so I’ll stay right here. She raised me all those years. I should at least see her off.
“I p>
Tears slipped from Winter’s tightly shut eyes and landed on the gravel. Her throat was so tight her voice trembled.
“I can’t bear to lose Grandma p>
After returning to Liono City, William had gone to see Zion while he was recovering, and Zion had told him the truth about Warren being responsible for Chris’s parents‘ deaths.
Hearing Winter say that, he could guess why Mrs. Xander Sr. had refused to see her.
He knew how deeply Mrs. Xander Sr. had loved Winter. If Winter wanted to see her off one last time, he had no right to stop her.
His hands slowly slipped from her shoulders, and William nodded. “Okay. I won’t stop you. I’ll stay here with you p>
On New Year’s Eve, Mrs. Xander Sr. was taken for cremation. A funeral car came to pick her up.
Winter hid by the wall near the side gate of the Xander estate. A cold wind swept past as she stared blankly toward the front entrance, where Chris stood in a black suit, looking in her direction.
A black mourning band was wrapped around his arm, and his expression was cold and distant.
She quickly looked away and shrank back behind the wall.
“Chris, don’t be too heartbroken. Grandma would never want to see you like this. You need to take care of yourself p>
A gentle voice carried on the wind into Winter’s ears.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Skyla being pushed out in a wheelchair by her caregiver.
The family got into the cars and followed the hearse to the crematory.
As Winter watched the cars drive away, tears instantly spilled down her face. She dug her nails into her palms to stop herself from running after them.
Then came the sound of wheels rolling closer.
She lifted her eyes slightly.
A pale, delicate hand reached out toward her, holding a blue handkerchief.
Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.