She lay slumped over the steering wheel, not knowing how many tears she'd shed in silence, not knowing how long her shoulders had been shaking, and in the end, when she'd finally exhausted all her strength, she drove the car into the yard.
She was thinking of what Qin Haiming had written in his diary, that he hoped she could come home for the New Year. Now she had finally come back, but he was already gone.
That explosion blew his body to pieces, and it also blew apart all the emotional savings between them. If he were alive, maybe in a few more years they could have been like an ordinary father and daughter, coming and going in each other's lives.
After getting home she turned on every light in the house, then sat alone on the sofa, picked up the most recent newspaper on the coffee table, held it quietly in her palms, and began leafing through it intently.
Time slipped by quietly, but her heart gradually calmed down.
