It felt like a wooden stick.
A hoarse, weak voice was heard uttering into his ears, “Take care of her, for me.”
Who was she?
Yale knew without having to ask. That wooden hairpin belonged to Sage. However, he had no knowled
ge of its history. Did the hairpin signify their past in some way? Jace had a long dream. In his dream, a
wispy figure crouched before the tomb, sobbing endlessly. Her shoulders shivered uncontrollably. The s
ound of her cry was heart–
wrenching. He slowly approached the tombstone. Upon having a closer look at the portrait on the tomb
stone, he realized it was him.
His face was serious, his brows knitted tightly together.
Jace had forgotten when the photo was taken. The figure that was weeping looked even more familiar,
and he could picture the face just by looking at her back. It was the person he had been yearning for, d
ay and night; it was the person who had his soul.
Was Sage crying for him? Not only was she crying, but she was also scolding him. She had called him
an irresponsible jerk who had always been so selfish.
Jace wanted to walk over and embrace her, console her.
She was right, and he was indeed a jerk!
She should not have cried over a jerk like himself.
Jace wanted to say something, but no sounds were coming out of
his mouth. He reached his arms out to embrace her, but he caught the air instead. All he could do was
watch as she wept.
Sage spat in between sobs, “How could
you die just like that? Didn‘t you say you want to make things up for me? Didn‘t you say you want to pat
ch things up? Come back then!”
Her cry was heart–wrenching, but her words had taken him by surprise.
What did Sage mean by that?
Would she forgive him if he was alive? “Sage!”
Jace leaped onto Sage and was once again met with nothing but air. Sage had disappeared before his
eyes.
Jace opened his eyes,
The moment he woke up, he felt as if his entire body had been crushed under a rock. The sensations o
f pain and helplessness had completely taken over him. His vision was blurry at first before things slowl
y came clear.
“You‘re awake?”
He was shocked by the familiar voice and face. *Mister Jack?
It was his art teacher from back in the day. It seemed like he
had indeed passed on. But where was he? Was he in heaven or hell?
Jace opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth. Had he died and become mute? Ja
throat and said, “You‘ve just woken up. Your vocal cord is still recovering. Give it some time, have some
Jace gulped like he had been dehydrated
for centuries. He wanted to raise his head up but failed to do so.
He looked like a puppet without its master. He was once again paralyzed, just like four years ago. Why d
him, and two sets of footsteps were heard approaching him. A man and a woman walked into the room.
Jace‘s body twitched as his eyes widened upon seeing her face. S... Sage!
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