Late at night.
Inside the inn, in a certain room lit by warm lamplight.
Jeff sat at the desk, his back ramrod straight, though the way he held the pen in his right hand looked somewhat awkward.
A sheet of letter paper lay on the desktop, covered in crooked, uneven handwriting.
He was not practiced.
But every stroke he wrote was exceptionally careful.
Because this was a letter to his family.
"Dear Daisy, the caravan's income from last month has already been sent back. I don't know whether you've received it.
It's perfectly normal that Jamie has someone he likes. He's at that age now. When there's time, have him bring the young lady home and help him take a look.
Lilina mentioned last time that she wanted me to bring back some local specialties. I asked many people in River Valley Town, but I couldn't find anything suitable.
In the end, I only managed to buy an aromatherapy candle said to be made from local plants at a shop called Green Grass Crucible. The friendly shopkeeper even gave me two small bottles of perfume as a gift. Looks like I'll have to visit a few more times in the future.
I've already read the letter you sent last time.
I miss you very much too, Daisy. But the income from the caravan is very important. At least for now, I still can't stop. I hope you can understand.
Your most loving husband, Jeff."
Rumble—
A sudden clap of thunder outside the window made this simple man, who carried the heavy burden of his family on his shoulders, flinch instinctively.
His gaze could not help turning toward the window, only to see pitch-black darkness where he could not even make out his own hand before his face.
"At my age,