The father's tombstone rests in a corner of the cemetery.
On the eighth day of the Lunar New Year, the last day of her holiday, Mabel Quinn came to the cemetery to visit her father. Or rather, her adoptive father.
The photo on the tombstone was of a man in his early thirties, slightly chubby, but exuding a feeling of warmth and approachability.
Father always had a gentle smile, accompanying her, talking a lot with her, and she loved his smile.
But after she turned eleven, she never saw that smile again.
"Dad," Mabel murmured, placing a bouquet before the tombstone, then leaning forward and gently wiping the dust from the photo with her fingers. "I found out a few days ago that I wasn't your biological daughter, but a child you kindly took in."
The man in the photo still smiled at her, just like he did in her memories.
