She was still prostrating herself along the way.
She had covered more than twenty kiloters.
She had already walked nearly half the distance on her knees, with the snowstorm piercing through her clothes, it was freezing cold.
Chilling to the bone.
Her steps were becoming heavy, as if weighed down by a massive stone, each step was like being pricked by a needle.
Painful.
But as soon as she thought that if she persevered to the end, Viola Thompson would recover, Mrs. Thompson's pace would lighten up.
Hold on.
She must hold on.
She was the best grandmother in the world!
Looking at the road ahead, Mrs. Thompson disdainfully said, "What's the big deal with this roads? Back in my day, I walked more than ninety kiloters across grasslands overnight!"
That ti was much more challenging than now.
Sucker up.
Sally Bennett.
But the further she went, the heavier the snowstorm beca.
This road seed endless, and Mrs. Thompson's energy dwindled bit by bit. It was like she was practically crawling on her knees, crawling three steps, then standing up, and finally kneeling down to pray.
The fresh red blood stained the white snow.
Mrs. Thompson did not know how long she had been crawling, her legs began to stiffen, until she could no longer stand up and could only crawl in the snow.
No.
She must persist.
She must stand up, Mrs. Thompson clenched her teeth, used all her strength to stand up from the ground, and was about to bow down and kneel.
Thud.
She fell flat into the thick snow.
At that mont.
Mrs. Thompson sobbed out loud.
It wasn't because she was in great pain.
Nor was it because she was worried about herself.
She felt she was such a useless grandmother. Not only did she fail to take her granddaughter to the hospital the mont she fell ill, but she also couldn't even handle such small tasks properly.
Now.
Viola was still lying in the hospital bed.
And she was causing trouble for everyone.
She was not a good grandmother.
"Sally Bennett, you are so useless!"
Mrs. Thompson lay there in the snow, and just when she was about to give up, she suddenly rembered that she hadn't taken a family portrait with Viola yet.
She couldn't die.
Even if she was to die, she had to hold on until they took the family portrait.
At that mont, Mrs. Thompson didn't know where the strength ca from, but she actually managed to prop herself up from the snow.
Then kneel every three steps, and prostrate every nine steps.
The snowstorm got heavier, blocking Mrs. Thompson's steps forward. Her breathing beca more and more difficult, her movents beca slower, and her head and body were nearly entirely covered by the snow.
"It's so cold," Mrs. Thompson couldn't muster any strength anymore and lay there in the snow, "Viola, I'm sorry… Grandma can't take the family portrait anymore…"
She did not want to die.
She wanted to live for another ten years.
She felt so greedy.
How about five years?
She wanted to see Viola get married and have children.
She had missed Viola's childhood, but she did not want to miss the childhood of her great-grandchild.
Viola's child.
Would definitely be as sensible and adorable as Viola, and would grow up to be incredibly beautiful.
Such a pity...
She wouldn't be able to see that now.
With her last strength, Mrs. Thompson took out her phone from her pocket and pulled up the photos she had taken with Viola.
Her granddaughter was simply the most well-behaved, most beautiful, most filial granddaughter in the world.
Knowing she had trouble sleeping, Viola would hand make a pillow for her to sleep better.
When Mrs. Thompson was feeling down, Viola would tell jokes to cheer her up.
No matter how busy she was, Viola would ssage her every day.
But now.
She could no longer receive ssages from Viola.
Thinking about this.
Tears welled up in Mrs. Thompson's eyes.
She swiped to the next photo.
It was a shot of Viola busily cooking instant noodles in the kitchen.
Mrs. Thompson still rembered how those noodles tasted like.
She had never tasted such terrible instant noodles before.
Thinking about it, Mrs. Thompson chuckled.
This lass.
Perhaps she just wasn't cut out for the kitchen after all.
Perhaps realizing that she couldn't hold on much longer.
Mrs. Thompson opened her notes app.
With trembling hands, she typed out a line:
Viola, my granddaughter, you must be happy.
She wanted to type a second line, but her fingers were stiffening bit by bit and couldn't move.
Finally.
Mrs. Thompson slowly closed her eyes.
An image of Viola as a child appeared before her.
At three months.
Viola could smile.
At five months.
Viola grew her first baby tooth.
At eight months.
Viola could stand up with the support of the bed.
At twelve months.
Viola turned one.
It was also at this ti that she learned to walk and call her grandmother.
At four years old.
Viola started kindergarten.
At seven years old.
Upon graduating from kindergarten, she beca a primary school student.
At thirteen years old.
Viola graduated from primary school and beca a middle school student in the sa year.
...
At eighteen years old.
Viola graduated from high school and successfully got into Capital University.
Shot to fa.
Mrs. Thompson shed tears of regret.
There were still many regrets in her life.
She was too reluctant to leave this world.
The snow fell heavier and heavier.
The fluffy snowflakes seed to be pouring down from the sky.
The accumulated snow piled up thicker and thicker, falling on Mrs. Thompson's body, covering her.
Perhaps due to the blood connection between mother and son.
Sawyer Thompson seed to sense sothing. He called Mrs. Thompson, but there was no answer on the other end. Out of helplessness, he called ho to inquire about Mrs. Thompson's situation from the maids.
The maid replied that Mrs. Thompson had gone out early in the morning, saying she was going to pray at St. John's Co-Cathedral.
To pray at St. John's Co-Cathedral.
Although his mother had ntioned this yesterday, Sawyer Thompson still sensed sothing was amiss.
She wouldn't be unreachable even if she was praying.
After hanging up the phone, Sawyer Thompson imdiately had soone contact the abbot of St. John's Co-Cathedral, but the reply was that Mrs. Thompson had not gone to St. John's Co-Cathedral.
She didn't go to St. John's Co-Cathedral?
Then where did Mrs. Thompson go?!
Why wasn't she answering the phone?
Just then.
A phone call ca in.
It was from an unknown caller, without a saved number.
Sawyer Thompson answered the phone, "Hello, this is."
Subconsciously.
He felt this phone call had sothing to do with Mrs. Thompson.
A voice ca from the other end, "Hello, is this Mr. Sawyer Thompson?"
"Yes, it's ."
"I'm Ellis Edgar, a police officer from the District Police Departnt. We received a report from the public about discovering a..."
Sawyer Thompson couldn't take in the rest of the words.
Thud.
The phone fell to the floor.
The screen shattered.
He fell to his knees and sobbed loudly, "Mother!"
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