The people who are ant to die do not; instead, those who shouldn’t die have been gone for many years.
Tor was in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
If it weren’t for Qiana, she wouldn’t have lived so long in this world.
In those years, she only listened to Qiana. On her deathbed, Qiana asked her to take good care of Sylvan Cheney and Yolanda Fern’s family, and she did, remaining loyal ever since.
It’s just a pity that later, Yolanda herself squandered everything, ruining her future, love, and wealth.
Yet, Tor couldn’t bring herself to hate Yolanda.
After experiencing such things as a five-year-old girl, it was difficult to maintain a normal ntality.
Thinking of these things, Tor couldn’t help but sigh deeply.
The sound of her sighs was particularly clear in the quiet night.
The rain hadn’t stopped yet, and the weather forecast said it would continue for several more days.
The oppressive weather added countless burdens to the heart.
Again, she tossed and turned.
She didn’t know how long it had been, but it seed to be one or two in the morning when Tor suddenly heard the sound of a car engine.
A car? How could there be a car here?
In this cetery, aside from the Cheney Family, no one else would co, as this place was located in the suburbs and very secluded.
Sylvan Cheney chose this location to ensure that the Cheney Family wouldn’t be disturbed.
But now, why was there the sound of a car? Was it Charles Mcintosh or Sylvan Cheney?
Outside, it seed that the car had stopped.
Tor quickly turned on the lights, put on her clothes and shoes, and went out to have a look.
What she saw shocked her; outside, four or five black cars were lined up, all in a neat row, ominously black.
The most conspicuous was the one in the middle, a black stretched Lincoln.
All the car lights were on, illuminating the cetery as bright as day.
Raindrops glistened in the light.
Tor was truly frightened and, holding an umbrella, her hand trembled slightly.
Who were these people?
At this mont, two bodyguards got out of the Lincoln car, opened an umbrella, and opened the car door.
As the door opened, an elderly man with mostly white hair, leaning on a cane, stepped out of the car.
Tor was completely stunned.
Master! Mr. Childe!
God, at this hour, the early morning when everything is silent; did the Master co back from abroad?
In recent years, the Master hasn’t been in good health and rarely returns to Landon, probably to avoid mories of the past; Spencer Childe almost never visits the cetery.
Tor hurried forward, "Mr. Childe, why have you co? You should have had soone call earlier so I could prepare."
Spencer Childe was dressed in a long black coat, with a simple Chinese outfit underneath. His face was expressionless, cold, rciless, and icy.
The sharpness in his eyes revealed a depth of darkness and coldness, colder than the cold rain.
The bodyguard was holding an umbrella for him. He glanced at Tor sideways without responding but instead instructed his bodyguard, "Secure the cetery; let no one in."
"Yes, Master."
All the other bodyguards from the cars got out and acted.
Soon, they sealed off the cetery entrance, not even allowing a fly to get through.
Tor was amazed.
"Mr. Childe..." Tor’s voice was a bit shaky, "At this late hour... are you here to see the young lady?"
"Where is Qiana’s grave?" Spencer Childe spoke in a low, hoarse voice, clearly filled with grief and heroism.
His wrinkles were deep, yet his spirit was strong.
However, beneath the dark night sky, a shroud of somberness enveloped him.
"I’ll take you there, just follow ." Tor hastily replied.
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