Tomer accompanied Sylvan Cheney as they walked.
"Miss loved lilies. I've already ordered them from the florist; they'll definitely be there," Tomer said. "I also had all the uneven trees trimmed a couple of days ago. Rest assured, Mr. Cheney, I will care for her as if she were still alive."
Sylvan Cheney walked into the cemetery, looking at each spot.
Rows of cold tombstones stood upright, and the wind caused the treetops to make a "rustle" sound, adding a somber chill to the air.
Tomer, being old, couldn't help but recall the past. Mentioning Qiana Childe made her eyes moist.
"Mr. Cheney, talking about her brings back memories again. Miss treated me well, and I couldn't take care of her properly while she was alive. It's my fault..." Tomer's tears flowed freely.
"It's not your fault. You didn't marry your whole life for the Cheneys; it's the Cheney Family that owes you."
