Whispers Behind the Veil Chapter 37

The weather/wish to be late.

The canopy of the old locust tree floats in the sky where the black and purple colors meet, making the blood-stained bit out of place.

A cold wind blew by, blowing the long strips hanging on the canopy back and forth, like a torn sack that was abandoned at will.

It took a while before someone spoke tremblingly.

“Then, is that a person?”