Brother Davis brought up several projects and plans that Louis Snyder had to decide on personally. Once he finished speaking, he left without staying long.
The sky outside had already darkened.
After dinner, the entire building beca lively again.
The sound of couples quarreling, parents teaching their children howork, and the noises from the TV ca together, making the quietness inside the house even more apparent.
Louis Snyder didn’t know how long he had sat there until his legs had beco numb. Only then did he lift his head and look at the empty room.
There was nothing on the dining table in front of him—no freshly cooked als, no soft muttering from the kitchen, and at night, when the wind picked up, no one to remind him to bring in the clothes.
The pitch-black room seed to have beco a desolate grave overnight.
Housing only him.
Louis Snyder sat there blankly as the harsh light from above bore down, reddening the rims of his eyes.
When he left, he had never thought that he would co back.
Yet now that he had returned, everything that once belonged to just the two of them had long been thrown away by the previous tenant.
He couldn’t find anything again, even though he tried hard to buy similar things to fill the room—it was ultimately different.
They weren’t bought by Hannah.
Everything was different.
More than once, he dialed Hannah’s number, but there was never a response from the other end again.
He crazily missed every single detail of the past that he had shared with Hannah, every word she had said to him.
Sotis at night, he dreamt that Hannah ca back and sat by his side just like before, softly asking him about his day at work, whether anyone had bullied him outside, if he was hungry, what he wanted for dinner that night.
In the past, he always responded with "anything."
Then she would cook him braised pork.
After he finished eating, he would wait for her to leave before going to the bathroom to throw it all up.
Now in his dreams, when he saw her again, and she was still so patient in asking him, he was so happy he cried, saying nothing but the word "braised pork."
Before she could finish cooking, the dream would end.
The thing he used to hate the most was now sothing he could never wait for again.
The house, once filled with the bustle of life, now only held his lone figure.
*
To prepare for the release of her third album, Hannah spent much of her ti in the recording studio.
Jas Landon was a perfectionist in his profession; once he got into his groove, he didn’t care about anyone’s face.
Because of this, Jack Stewart often complained that Jas Landon was a stubborn fool.
However, Jas Landon also had a talent for sharp-tongued remarks, so the two of them were well-matched in their verbal sparring.
On the rare occasions Hannah had so free ti, she wouldn’t go far, just sitting on the bench downstairs from the company.
From there, she could perfectly see the stage on the opposite side of the river, and further away, the artificial fountain. At night, the lights and water reflections mingled, creating a misty mist that fell from the sky, blurring the riverside scenery into a picturesque gallery.
But it wasn’t yet ti for the fountain’s performance.
Jack Stewart sat with Hannah for a while until a call ca through to the recording studio.
It was probably about the upcoming schedule. He had a casual bite to eat and left.
Before leaving, he told Hannah not to wander off; he would be right back down.
Hannah agreed.
After four in the afternoon, the sun wasn’t glaring; a faint layer of golden specks fell on the river’s surface with the light and shadows dancing.
In the distance, after being gone for so long, Golden Lotus struggled toward Hannah’s direction with a hemp sack the size of a palm.
It spotted Hannah sitting on the bench at first glance, her figure cast in a cascade of light and shadow, making Golden Lotus feel for the first ti that their owner appeared like a fairy.
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