Mrs. White never once considered claiming the inheritance. The money lost by the White Group had slowly been recovered, and it was substantial. It could have been used to achieve great things, even elevating the White Group to new heights. But this money was not hers to take. It did not belong to her, so she could not accept it.
Initially, Old Burns had given her a portion of Burns Group shares in her name, but she had found no use for them and had eventually passed them on to Finn. One, to exchange for her own son, and two, she had never valued the Burns family’s money.
Women born into the Burns family were often powerless, like pawns on a chessboard, either manipulated or sold. When she married into the White family, she had expected her life to be similar to a puppet on strings, controlled by others. But unexpectedly, she had found true love.
In circles like theirs, being able to spend a lifetime with the one you love was rare. That’s why Mrs. White cherished it even more. With Hamish’s passing, the Burns family truly came to an end. Such a vast lineage, tormenting several generations, had finally vanished. Perhaps this was the outcome Hamish had desired.
Elisa donated all the money in Hamish’s name. There were now avenues, bridges, schools, and streets bearing Hamish’s name. On the third week after Hamish’s passing, Elisa, accompanied by Louis and Mrs. White, visited Chiwood. Mr. White, unable to walk easily, stayed home, while Brittany managed the company affairs.
The weather had turned warm in May, a stark contrast to their last visit in autumn. The cicadas, normally expected in July, had emerged earlier this year. Elisa stared at one of the cicadas on a tree, momentarily losing focus.
The Burns family cemetery was situated on a hill. Elisa chose not to ascend but placed daisies at the foot of the hill. Mrs. White went up the hill, not just to see Hamish, but also to remember the other members of the Burns family – her elder brother, sister-in-law, mother, and father.
Louis stayed by Elisa’s side, usually talkative, but now silent, holding her hand. Elisa glanced at him, wondering if he, too, was reminiscing about his past with Hamish.
Upon reaching the graveyard, Mrs. White immediately spotted Hamish’s grave. Several bouquets of flowers adorned the site. Mrs. White laid down her white chrysanthemums and gazed at the photo of Hamish on the tombstone.
In the monochrome picture, Hamish appeared at his most vigorous age. As the sun set, painting half the sky a deep red and casting a warm glow over the cemetery, it seemed less eerie and more comforting.
Standing before Old Burns’s grave, Mrs. White spoke softly, “Father, are you satisfied with the current state of the Burns family? Those who have left, have left, and those who have passed away, have passed away. Nothing you wished to preserve remains.”
Old Burns had been a stern and traditional man. Even in death, his expression in the photograph remained unchanged – devoid of any hint of a smile, forbidding strangers from approaching. Previously, Mrs. White had never dared to meet his gaze, but now, she could, albeit only with a black-and-white photograph.
Old Burns’s eyes were deep, dark, and mysterious, seemingly longing to convey a message. Perhaps, during the taking of this final photo, he had regretted something.
After placing the flowers, Mrs. White departed. With Hamish gone, could he have a second chance at life, like Elisa did? It had once seemed like a fairy tale, but now, nothing seemed impossible.
Someone had taught Hamish how to love in this lifetime. If given another chance, he would surely treasure it.