675
A light rain fell from the sky, delicate and dense, carried by the spring breeze, striking one's face like piercing ice needles.
Three buses were parked outside.
Sienna Thornton, with vacant eyes, held Melinda Linton's urn, supported by Simon Forrester as she boarded the bus.
She hadn't spoken the entire way, remaining quiet, tightly holding the urn. Occasionally, thinking of something, two clear tears would slide down her swollen eyes.
Simon Forrester sat beside her. From his angle, Quentin Thorne and Victor were seated not far in front.
Quentin Thorne did not break down and cry like Sienna, but these three days, his eyes remained red and swollen, and his voice hoarse. He hadn't cried loudly or spoken much these days, in fact, he was unusually silent, so Simon Forrester didn't know why his voice had become hoarse.
The bus stopped at Linden Cemetery; today was Melinda Linton's burial ceremony.
The rain continued to fall, and at noon, the sky was dark and gloomy.
