Cassius Turner's tall figure was tense, trembling slightly as he spoke in a hoarse voice, "Delphine, sometimes when I have nightmares, I still dream of her. I can't remember her face anymore, but she just stands there quietly, looking at me without speaking, and there's a small child holding her hand."
Delphine saw his spirits sink, his whole being engulfed in regret and anguish. Her gaze softened slightly with pity as she spoke softly, "Sometimes I dream too, dreaming of my first child that I lost. His soft little hand clutches mine, calling me 'Mom.' At first, I was terrified and heartbroken. Later, I longed for the dreams, so I could tell him that Mom misses him so much. Cassius Turner, if you can't forget, then remember—it might not be a bad thing after all."
Looking at her pale but resolute face, Cassius Turner felt, for the first time, that Delphine Carter wasn't as fragile as she seemed. In some ways, her strength and resilience surpassed his own as a man.
