Nicole put the things down, glanced at her mother's tombstone, and sat in front of Wade's tombstone, opening the things in front of her.
"Wade, I've come to see you. I'm doing well, really well lately, except that I often dream of you, dream of you covered in blood lying coldly in the alley of the bar. I also dream of two children covered in blood scolding me for not protecting them well."
"Other than waking up startled every night, everything is fine." Nicole tugged at her lips, took what she had bought, opened a case of alcohol, and sat in front of Wade's tombstone, her voice hoarse: "Wade, let's have some drinks. I have many things I want to say, but no one to share them with."
