On the day of Mom’s death anniversary, Jones arrived early with a car to pick me up and take me to her grave.He’d brought piles of offerings and fresh flowers, clearly trying to make up for missing the date two years ago.On the headstone, Mom’s smile was as gentle as ever.I placed my trophy in front of the grave and chatted with her like I always did about work, life, and the weather.Jones stood nearby, silent the whole time.When it was time to leave, I couldn’t help but cry.With red eyes, Jones turned to me and asked, "Sis, no matter how much we try to make it up to you, you’ll never forgive us, will you?"I wiped away my tears and answered softly, "As long as you don’t interfere in my life again, consider it forgiven."I would never forget the pain they caused me. We could never go back to how things were. The wounds had healed, but the scars remained. I didn’t want to spend my life bound by resentment.Jones’s last shred of hope crumbled. He smiled bitterly. "Alright.
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