"I'm sorry, Leah." Delphine apologized softly, her eyes slightly reddened. She forced a smile and said, "It's my selfishness. I didn't consider your feelings. I'm just so, so tired."
All these years, she had been holding on with great difficulty. In her next life, she wanted to be a tree, devoid of sorrow or joy, basking silently in the sunlight.
Leah looked at her now—emotionless, terribly thin, like skin stretched over bone. Suddenly, Leah's emotions collapsed altogether. She felt as though she was about to lose little Delphine.
"Don't leave me behind. Let's go find Griffith together, okay? Delphine?" Leah pleaded, crying frantically.
"Leah, our paths are different. To be honest, I've always envied you, living so freely and untamed, as though nothing in this world could ever weigh you down. But I'm not like that. All these years, I've lived such a failure of a life. Even if I got out, I could never escape the towering walls inside my heart."
