On the wall in Jasmine Yale's home hangs a calendar for this year.
This kind of calendar was something she had back home in Willow Wave City when she was little. Later, at the Cheney Residence, they were all electronic calendars.
Every day that passes, she tears off a page.
When the calendar has only twenty or thirty thin pages left, she suddenly realizes that a new year is coming again.
Jasmine Yale rests her head, closes her eyes slightly, and rubs her temples.
New year... a new year.
...
Old York.
The church bell not far away strikes several times, a few white pigeons flap their wings and fly from the white tower into the sky.
The second trial is over.
The court personnel escorted Sylvan Cheney back to the monitoring room.
