The early autumn in Coronet brings a gentle breeze without harshness.
The weather is nice today, and Thea Lynch has tied up her hair in a simple high ponytail, wearing a knee-length white dress without any excess accessories.
She appears with a bare face, bright eyes and pearly teeth. When she murmured to herself, her voice was soft and gentle. Discussing some past events, she occasionally frowned and playfully grumbled.
Just like back in the day, she was always the pampered little girl in front of her brother.
Gently wiping the dust off the tombstone with a handkerchief and looking at the familiar name, Thea Lynch's fingers trembled uncontrollably.
Aaron Lynch, army officer, died at the young age of twenty-seven.
