Ben, I''m sorry. If it''s possible to love after death, then I will still love you.


    There were several dried tear stains on the paper, left from when Yvonne had been crying as she wrote it.


    The letter had clearly been read countless times since it reached Bet; the edges of the paper were worn and frayed.


    And at the very bottom of the letter, in Bet''s handwriting, were the words: I have been a staunch materialist my whole life, but for you, I hope there is a next one. Yvonne tried her best to hold it in, but tears streamed uncontrobly down her face. Just then, she heard Helen''s footsteps approaching the door.


    Yvonne quickly wiped her tears, folded the letter, put it back in the envelope, and ced it back where she found it.


    Helen walked in at that exact moment, carrying a bowl of warm, sobering soup.


    Yvonne was about to tell her that Bet was already asleep and probably didn''t need the soup.


    But Helen spoke first. "Young Master, you''re awake. Perfect. Drink this soup while it''s warm."


    Yvonne froze, feeling as though she''d turned to stone.


    After a long moment, she slowly turned her head. Bet was sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping the soup, looking perfectly normal.


    Yvonne''s mind went nk. She had no idea when he had woken up, if he was sober, or if he had seen her reading the letter. She even wondered if he would throw her out for prying into his secrets.


    But after finishing the soup, Bet said nothing. Without so much as a nce at Yvonne, hey back down on the bed.


    "The young master is going to rest. Ms. Jones, let''s go back to our rooms," Helen said, taking the empty bowl in one hand and guiding Yvonne out with the other.


    That night, Yvonne tossed and turned, unable to sleep.


    The next morning, she woke up with dark circles under her eyes.


    She quickly washed up, changed her clothes, and left her room.


    As she entered the living room, she saw Bet sitting on the sofa, reading the newspaper.


    He held the paper in one hand and a teacup in the other. He looked up, and their eyes met.


    His eyes were as deep as the ocean, easy to get lost in. Yvonne instinctively looked away, unable to hold his gaze.


    The atmosphere became tense. Yvonne, feeling guilty, felt so awkward she didn''t know what to do with her hands.


    Just then, the doorbell rang, and Yvonne moved toward it out of reflex.


    "I''ll get it." She walked to the


    entrance and pulled the door open, only to find Ynda standing on the other side.


    Ynda was dressed in a pink white gown, her hair styled in an elegant updo, and sparkling


    eacefil


    gars


    diamond earrings adorning her ears She looked noble and graceful.


    But when she saw Yvonne, her expression shifted from surprise to a flicker of barely concealed resentment.


    "Ms. Jones, what are you doing in Bet''s home?"


    Her hair was down, and she was in loungewear; she had clearly spent the night. "I..." Yvonne started to exin, but Bet was already walking over from inside. "Ynda, what are you doing here?" he asked, his tone gentle and affectionate.


    Ynda smiled softly at Bet. "I、 was on my way to a concert and passed by, so thought I''d stop in. Did Ie at a bad time?" >


    As she spoke, her gaze instinctively flickered toward Yvonne.