Lake City.
The cemetery.
Amidst the wind and snow, a man in a black mid-length trench coat is walking slowly up the mountain, cradling a large bouquet of primroses.
Passing row after row of tombstones, he finally stops in front of a couple's joint grave.
He silently watches for a long time before gently squatting down and slowly placing the primroses in front of the tombstone. The pink and brilliant primroses rest on the shallow white snow, blooming with a peculiar beauty.
The man takes off his gloves, stretches out his hand, and touches the photo on the tombstone, softly saying, "Jacqueline, today is your memorial day, I've come to see you..."
When I met you, you were still the daughter of Commander Willow's family, the number one socialite in River State.
And I, although born in Spencer Mansion, with ancestors who once held the position of governor, by my generation, the Spencer family had finally fallen.
