Twisted Ties of Love
Chapter 411

Mrs. Lewis smoothly changed the topic, "We can make some osmanthus wine to sell, as a way to make some extra cash, let's go pick some more osmanthus flowers." Osmanthus wine has a thick aroma and doesn't take too long to brew.

As Rachel went out with a basket, Mrs. Lewis' gentle face suddenly twisted in pain. She hunched over, her body filled with torment and her breaths coming out in huffs. Her illness was getting worse, with no cure in sight. Even a kidney transplant couldn't fully restore her health, she could only hang on for a few more years at most.

Everyone's clock is ticking, for someone with a terminal illness, staying alive takes more courage than letting go.

But she couldn't bear to leave her daughter, Rachel.

Rachel quickly came back with a basket full of osmanthus flowers. Mrs. Lewis, bearing the intense pain and feeling much weaker than before, managed to flash a smile as she looked at Rachel, "Rachel, I suddenly want that hat we saw when I left the hospital."

It had been half a month since they left the hospital, and she wasn't sure if the beautiful hat was still there.

Rachel put down her basket and said, "I'll take you to buy it another day."

"If we wait too long, it might be gone. We're out of food and wine at home. You can buy some on your way and check the store. If the hat is still there, get it for me. If not, never mind." Rachel glanced at the sky. The round trip would take about three hours. Her mother was too weak to travel that far, and that was the first time her mother asked her for something.

"Okay, I'll go now." Rachel changed her clothes, slung her bag over her shoulder, waved to Mrs. Lewis, and ran to the bus station.

Once Rachel was gone, Mrs. Lewis swayed a bit. She braced herself and continued making honey cakes, using up all the ingredients. She lost track of how many cakes she made, but the table was full. It should be enough for Rachel for a while.

She weakly took off her apron and staggered towards the yard.

The sun was shining brightly. She sat under the osmanthus tree, enjoying the shade. The sun wasn't too harsh, and the scent of the flowers and the songs of the birds filled the air.

She usually spent her free time lying on the rocking chair under the osmanthus tree. That day was a good day, with great weather and fragrant flowers. It was a good day to die.

She squinted her eyes, whispering to herself, "Rachel, you are my hope... If there's a next life... please be my daughter again..."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she gently closed them once and for all.

Rachel didn't replace the hat at the store. She didn't want to disappoint her mother, so she searched the entire city center and finally found a similar one.

She paid for the hat, carrying her shopping bag, thinking how happy her mother would be when she saw the hat.

Rachel bought some wine, and on her way home, she stopped at the market to buy fresh vegetables.

With a bag full of groceries, she cheerfully called out, "Mom, I'm back!"

No one answered Rachel, and she felt a sense of unease. As she looked at the quiet house, fear crept in, and a warning flashed in her mind: Stop, don't go in.

She went inside and saw a table full of honey cakes. Rachel put down the groceries, took out the hat, and walked towards the yard. Under the osmanthus tree, she saw her mother lying on the rocking chair.

It looked like she was peacefully sleeping. Rachel walked over and looked at her mother's pale face, "Mom, wake up... I'm back. I bought the hat you liked. Try it on."

But her mother didn't move.

Rachel held her mother's hand, replaceing it strangely cold. It must be because she didn't bring a blanket to keep herself warm.

"Mom, wait a minute. I know you like sleeping in the yard. I'll get you a blanket, so you don't catch a cold."

Rachel put the hat on her mother's lap, rushed back inside to get a blanket, and also brought a water bottle. She knelt down and tried to warm her mother's hand, but no matter how hard she tried, it didn't get warm. She lowered her head, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Rachel was sobbing as she spoke to the lifeless corpse of her mother, "Mom, I saw the honey cakes you made. Didn't you say you were going to teach me? How did you make so many while I was away? I'm so clumsy, I still haven't learned. Can you teach me again?

I also bought some wine. I'm grown up now, I can drink the wine you made.

We're going to make a lot of honey cakes and osmanthus wine this year. I wonder if this osmanthus tree has enough flowers."

Rachel held her mother's hand to her face, her tears soaking her mother's hand.

"Mom, I'll tell you a joke, and then you open your eyes to look at me, okay?" Her voice choked up, "A duck was playing with a ball by the sea. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew the ball away. As it chased the ball, it kept calling out, 'Ball, don't go... ball, don't go...' Mom, did you hear? The duck said, 'Ball, don't go.""

Her mind kept on saying, "Don't go, don't leave me alone."

"Mom, I haven't had a chance to take care of you yet, I haven't taken you to see the pink sea." As she spoke, more tears began to flow, and she completely broke down crying.

Mistakes have consequences, but why wasn't she paying the price?

Rachel knelt in the yard, keeping vigil over her mother's body, from dusk till dawn. The autumn weather was really cold, cold enough to make one drowsy.