Upon hearing those words, Evan froze, releasing his grip and slowly lifting his head to look toward the source of the voice.
The moment he loosened his grip, the policeman dashed away.
"Grandfather..." Evan's lips parted slowly, and it took him a long time to utter it.
An elderly man, perhaps in his late eighties or nineties, with white hair and dressed in a traditional suit, emerged from the crowd. He held a ceramic urn in his arms and leaned on a cane as he approached.
The old man’s face, etched with deep sorrow, gave Evan a fleeting glance. His voice carried a note of indifference, "Mr. Foster, I cannot bear the title 'grandfather' from you. Please call me Mr. Jones."
The color drained from Evan’s face, turning it from pale to ashen. His eyes fixed on the urn in Mr. Jones's arms, struggling to reconcile the vibrant woman he knew with the lifeless ashes before him.
Mr. Jones paid no heed to Evan as he passed by, leaning on his cane in one hand and cradling the urn in the other.
At that moment, Evan's tall frame collapsed to his knees before the white-haired man. Bereft of his usual composure, he pleaded desperately, "Grandfather, please let me take Avery home. I can’t be without her."
"Avery ended up this way because she was with you. What right do you have to ask for her again, Mr. Foster? Let her go," Mr. Jones’s aged eyes looked down at his distraught descendant. "Since you couldn’t give her what she wanted in life, grant her peace in death."
Let her go? He wished he could, but he was now unable to let go.
"Grandfather..."
"Mr. Foster, call me Mr. Jones. Despite my difficulties in moving, even if I have to crawl, I will take my poor granddaughter home. I won’t let her be alone and vulnerable to abuse any longer."
A bodyguard came with an umbrella to fetch Mr. Jones. He did not glance again at Evan kneeling at his feet but entered the car.
Evan stood motionless at the police station entrance, watching as Mr. Jones’s car drove away.
The staff at the station kept their distance from this imposing figure, fearing collateral damage.
Liam approached with an umbrella, positioning it over Evan’s head, "Forget her. Don’t love her, and you won’t suffer."
Evan chuckled softly, his body drenched, "I can’t forget. If you’ve truly loved someone, you’d know some people aren’t easy to forget, and love isn’t easily dismissed."
Evan stepped out from under the umbrella, allowing the rain to drench him again.
Liam moved the umbrella back over Evan, anguished by his friend's self-destruction, "Evan, you have injuries on your face. Do you want to ruin your looks? I’m taking you to the hospital now."
Liam's words struck a nerve. Evan’s eyes downcast, his expression confused, he murmured, "I can't be disfigured. If I am, she won’t want me. I can’t be disfigured."
Liam watched his friend, deeply worried but feeling powerless. He no longer dared hope that his friend would stop loving Avery; he just wished that love would diminish, allowing time to heal his wounds.
Suddenly, Evan came over, grabbed Liam by the shoulders, and shook him, asking urgently, "Where’s my Avery? Didn’t you see her? I think I’ve lost her. Do you know where she is?"
Liam’s eyes widened, his look one of horror as he gazed at Evan.
