As long as she considers him Edward Stephens, then he is Edward Stephens.
Lady Stephens seemed too ashamed to lift her head.
After a while, Daisy Ginger asked, "Do you not hate me?"
Lady Stephens raised her head and looked at her with a somewhat dazed expression.
"If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have died so young."
Lady Stephens moved her lips, shook her head, "It's not your fault."
Daisy Ginger: "I thought you hated me and that's why you refused to tell me all these years." But unexpectedly, he didn't want to tell her.
In this world, perhaps apart from him, no one else could understand her more.
For so many years, without that glimmer of hope, she might truly have been unable to endure it alone.
"No, that's not it," Lady Stephens said softly, "it has nothing to do with you, Daisy. Edward, he... was never meant to live long."
"What are you saying?" Daisy Ginger's voice became hoarse, as if she heard something unbelievable, she looked up at Lady Stephens.
