Chapter 851
On the way to the cemetery, Lizetta Gardenia was in a somber mood, silent throughout the journey.
Remington Dashiell reached out, drawing her cold hand into his warm, large palm, enveloping it securely, and never let go.
Perhaps it was the warmth of his hand, or maybe she was grateful to him for giving their little Daisy the dignity in her final resting place, and a spot for Lizetta to visit when she missed their child. The cemetery was located on the outskirts of Zion City. As they arrived, the last traces of the sunset faded into darkness.
The wind picked up, and despite being the most prestigious cemetery in Zion City, with its scenic hillside and well-maintained grounds, it couldn't shake off a sense of solitude.
Remington kept holding Lizetta's hand, guiding her up the steps, passing rows of tombstones.
A cemetery caretaker descending from the hill didn't shy away upon seeing Remington; instead, he greeted him with a smile.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.
"Mr. Dashiell, visiting the little master again, I see. Looks like we might have a change in the weather soon."
"Mr. Jackson, I'll be leaving shortly," Remington replied, nodding at the older man as he continued to lead Lizetta up the hill.
It was unusual for Remington to bring a woman along, and as they passed, Mr. Jackson couldn't help but scrutinize Lizetta.
Surprised by Remington's politeness towards this man, Lizetta met Mr. Jackson's gaze and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
Mr. Jackson, however, turned back to watch their departing figures, sighing to himself, realizing this beautiful woman must be the child's mother.
They seemed like a well-matched pair, a pity about their loss.
Daisy's grave was located at the highest, most scenic part of the cemetery. As Remington brought Lizetta to the grave, she saw the inscription on the tombstone: "Beloved child, Daisy," with their names listed below. Instead of a photo, there was an image of a cherubic baby smiling with chubby cheeks - innocent and adorable, just as Lizetta had imagined their Daisy would look.
Her eyes instantly blurred with tears as she crouched down, touching the image of the child's face, her voice trembling, "This is?"
Remington crouched beside her,
explaining, "I used a 4D ultrasound
image to generate what Daisy would've looked like at about 100 days old using computer
technology."
If their Daisy were still here, she would probably look just like this - a beautiful baby.
"Daisy, so this is what you looked. like. Mommy's so sorry for only getting to know now... for only coming to see you now," Lizetta caressed the image, her vision
blurring more.
Whether it was a mother's intuition or something else, Lizetta felt an overwhelming familiarity with the generated image of Daisy.
Before she could ponder the source of this familiarity, Remington, worried she might be overcome with grief, pulled her from the gravestone to embrace her.
"Alright, no more tears. You promised me, remember? Daisy wouldn't want to see mommy crying."
Lizetta leaned on him, lost in sorrow, momentarily forgetting to pull away.
"I never did anything for Daisy..."
Her voice was filled with low, guilt-ridden tones.
Remington gently patted her back, his voice soft and soothing, "Who says you didn't?"
Lizetta looked up from his embrace, her eyes filled with shattered hope.
Remington touched
the corner of
her eye, "When Daisy left us, she was wearing the little clothes and
wrapped in the blanket you prepared
for her. She was holding the little
airplane model you bought for her."
Surprised, Lizetta's lips parted, and after a moment, she managed to say, "Thank you."
A look of pity and helplessness flashed through Remington's eyes. What he had done, after all, was minimal in the grand scheme of their loss.