Three Years Later

Three years later

In the main hall of the airport, there was a young mother who'd brought her three-year-old son to handle the immigration documents. The small boy held a small ball in his hands. He played around with it, he bounced it a few times, and the ball rolled away.

"Eh, my ball!" The small boy turned around, and he ran after the ball immediately.

As he noticed the small ball roll further and further away from him, it headed in the direction of the exits, and at this moment, a pair of crystal stilettos appeared in his line of vision, and a small, fair hand was stretched out. His ball was handed back to him.

The small boy immediately stepped forward. "Older Sister, thank you for picking my ball up."

"You don't have to thank me." A sweet voice rang out in the air. The woman had a pair of broad, black sunglasses on her small face. As she handed the ball back to the small boy, she said, "This belongs to you."