Chapter 8

After lunch, Ethan drove me into a small courtyard.

The summer in the mountains was much gentler than the scorching heat of the city, with the warm sun gently shining down on us.

However, my hands grew colder as the distance between us closed, my heartbeat quickened, and I became more nervous. I hadn’t seen Ms. Clayton in two years, and I was feeling somewhat shy about returning to familiar grounds.

In the courtyard, there was a grapevine trellis, and the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting scattered spots of light on the table.

Ms. Clayton sat there, carving a new piece of work, immersed in the peaceful passage of time.

I knocked on the door and slowly walked in, standing next to her.

"You’re finally willing to come?"

As soon as she spoke, my eyes grew moist, almost in tears. I couldn’t bring myself to speak, afraid that the tears would fall onto the ceramic tiles and disturb her work.

She put down her carving tool, turned to look at me, said nothing, and stood up to