These voices kept playing endlessly, as if they transformed into a cage, trapping her within.
Until a voice shattered all these sounds.
"Charlotte Allison, I've avenged you. I've sent everyone who hurt you down to keep you company."
She saw the man in front of her, his fingers purple from the cold, gently caressing the tombstone.
"It's just... half a year too late," he said.
"Cough, cough, cough..." Suddenly, he started coughing violently, as if he would cough up his internal organs.
After a while, he gradually recovered, but his face, already pale, became even whiter, and a hint of red at the corner of his mouth was wiped away with his sleeve.
"Sir, you can't stand the cold. Let's go back first. We'll come back to see Miss Allison when the weather is better," said the man behind him holding an umbrella, wearing gold-rimmed glasses.
"Cough." He didn't reply, just looked at the tombstone. After a while, he asked, "Have they found the person?"
