The James patriarch, the Thompson patriarch, and several other influential figures from Istra were seated together, their faces beaming with smiles from ear to ear.


    Yvonne Jones''s wedding had unexpectedly be the elder Mr. James''s moment to shine.


    Bet Thompson and Yvonne made their rounds, stopping to greet each table, finally arriving at the one where Bruce Jones and Monica Scott Jones were seated.


    Yvonne''s heart ached with an indescribable sorrow when she saw her parents relegated to the guest seating.


    She had always dreamed that her father would personally walk her down the aisle, ce her hand in Bet''s, and gruffly warn him, "Listen, you little punk, if you ever dare to hurt my daughter, you''ll have me to answer to."


    But now, all she could do was raise her ss and address Bruce and Monica as "Mr. and Mrs. Jones," the words tasting like ash in her mouth.


    Bruce and Monica, however, seemed genuinely happy, offering many blessings. Monica even gave them a generous gift envelope.


    "Once you''re married, you''re truly adults. You must build a good life together. Life is short, and being able to spend it with the one you love is the greatest fortune of all."


    Monica took both Yvonne''s and Bet''s hands, cing them together.


    She thought to herself that Bet was the man Vonnie had loved most, and Yvonne was the young woman Vonnie had saved. Perhaps, in some mysterious way, this was their destiny.


    If Vonnie''s spirit was watching from heaven, she would surely bless them.


    Yvonne, the weight of a hundred unsaid goodbyes finally crushing her, copsed into Monica''s arms, weeping with a depth of sorrow that seemed to pour from her very soul.


    Monica was taken aback by the outburst, quickly trying tofort her. "There, there, this is your and Bet''s big day. Why are you crying? You''re about to be a mother, and you''re still crying like a child. Don''t you worry people willugh?”


    Bet also wrapped an arm around Yvonne''s shoulders, his grip tightening slightly as a silent reminder for her to control her emotions.


    She was Yvonne Jones now, not Vonnie. Bruce and Monica were no longer her parents.


    The moment she had sacrificed herself, the mes of the explosion had consumed not only her life but also all the bonds she shared with her former family.


    After their toast, Bet guided Yvonne away.


    Bruce and Monica sat back down.


    Monica, still holding her wine ss, stared nkly in the direction Bet and Yvonne had gone.


    "What are you looking at?" Bruce had already picked up his silverware and offered a choice cut of lobster to Monica.


    "Our Vonnie was always a


    magnanimous soul. She may be gone, but she would want everyone she ever loved to find happiness. Seeing Bet move on, get married, and start a new family would have brought her greatfort."


    Sensing Monica''s lingering sadness over the man their daughter had loved, Bruce tried to soothe her.


    Monica snapped back to reality and shook her head. "I''m also very happy to see Bet and Yvonne married and starting a family. It''s just... I''ve been dreaming a lot fately. I keep dreaming that Vonnie is


    eagain,


    but in the dream, her face somehow


    bes Yvonne''s."


    As a veteran detective who frequently dealt with crime scenes and dead bodies, Bruce Jones had no patience for superstitions. He replied directly, "You''re just overthinking things. We''ll go to the hospital another day and get the dactor to prescribe you something to help you sleep. A good night''s rest will keep the dreams away."


    Monica listened and nodded.


    After so many years, she had long since epted reality. Her daughter had died a hero. And Yvonne was someone else''s daughter; she couldn''t possibly be hers.


    The Thompson family''s wedding proceeded smoothly from start to finish.