But Emma Bennett couldn’t comfort her mother either; saying things like she would become beautiful in the future, even if she said it, Lillian Clark would at most think it was just childish nonsense. Emma Bennett had spent the whole night in a daze, thinking about it—being reborn was just too unbelievable. She was grateful for everything she had been given a second chance to have, so she planned to obediently be a four-year-old little girl, stay by her parents’ side, and take care of them in their old age. Even if she never married in this life, she would never let her parents suffer or despair in their middle age because of her again.

She obediently finished her meal, and Lillian Clark wiped her mouth.

Emma Bennett said in her soft, childish voice, “Mom, I want to go to kindergarten.”

Lillian Clark smiled, “Usually we have to push you out the door, but today you’re sick, you don’t have to go.”

Emma Bennett, still sick, her voice soft and weak: “I want to go.” Her eyes were earnest and glistening.

Lillian Clark softened, touching her forehead: “Then go in the afternoon.”

Emma Bennett remembered what her father said that morning—no one had picked up Charles Page all night—and felt a little uneasy. But a four-year-old’s arm can’t twist a grown-up’s thigh, so she could only listen to Lillian Clark.

In the afternoon, Emma Bennett was smoothly sent to kindergarten.

At the entrance of “Changqing Kindergarten” were a few toon trees, which gave off a stinky smell when touched. But inside the yard, a few plum trees were planted, and in winter their fragrance filled the air. In 1996, kindergarten facilities were simple—there were no slides or anything like that.

There were only two seesaws made of wooden planks, sitting lonely in the yard.

The summer weather changed quickly; as soon as the sun came out, the hail melted and soaked the seesaws, so they couldn’t be used for now.

Little Mr. Clark was organizing games for the children.

Little Mr. Wood wouldn’t come until next week, so Mr. Clark was so busy she barely touched the ground.

When Lillian Clark placed Emma Bennett’s soft little hand into Little Mr. Clark’s, Emma Bennett looked into the classroom. The children were playing “Drop the Handkerchief.” Everyone was clapping and singing, except for one person—

Charles Page turned his head and met Emma Bennett’s gaze.

His eyes were empty, holding nothing.

But after just a moment, he turned away and didn’t look at her again.

Charles Page was also placed among the children. Because he had no legs, he was undoubtedly the most special child in the kindergarten. Little Mr. Clark pitied him, and the children were both afraid of and annoyed by him. With such a contradictory presence, he seemed to have become the burden of the whole kindergarten.

So Charles Page didn’t fit in with anyone.

The children’s tender voices sang as Little Mr. Clark smiled and settled Emma Bennett among them. Emma Bennett was seated right across from Charles Page.

“Drop it, drop it, drop the handkerchief, gently drop it behind a little friend, everyone don’t tell him, hurry, hurry, catch him, hurry, hurry, catch him~”

The handkerchief fell behind Henry Brooks. The chubby boy didn’t react at first, and when all the children laughed and looked at him, Henry Brooks suddenly turned his head, saw the blue handkerchief behind him, and bounced up like a little meatball to chase someone, but the child in front had already returned to their seat.

Henry Brooks became the next one to drop the handkerchief, a bit frustrated. As punishment, he sang a children’s song the teacher had taught, then continued the game.

The four- and five-year-olds clapped in a circle: “Drop it, drop it, drop the handkerchief~”

In the children’s innocent singing, the chubby boy’s eyes darted toward Charles Page in the wheelchair. Emma Bennett’s heart skipped a beat. In her previous life, she hadn’t come to kindergarten this day, but after the next day, Charles Page never spoke again, even refused to come to kindergarten, and completely became a silent, withdrawn boy.

So what had he experienced?

The song continued, and Henry Brooks the chubby boy dropped the handkerchief behind Charles Page. At that moment, Little Mr. Clark had taken a child with a stomachache to the bathroom.

The whole room suddenly fell silent. Even children could sense that Charles Page had no legs—he couldn’t catch anyone.

Charles Page turned around and looked down, seeing the handkerchief behind him.

Henry Brooks made a triumphant face at him, and the children giggled at his funny expression.

Little Charles Page gritted his teeth, grabbed the low wheelchair with one hand, and tried hard to bend down.

Henry Brooks pointed at him and laughed loudly.

Emma Bennett’s heart raced. Don’t pick it up… don’t pick it up…

The cicadas on the toon trees buzzed in the summer air.

Charles Page bit his lip hard and struggled to pick up the handkerchief. His eyes were dark and deep, like a silent abyss.

Amid all the children’s laughter, his thin arms began to push the wheelchair forward with all his might.

Unfortunately, at five years old, his legs had only just been lost, and he wasn’t familiar with the wheelchair.

Each push of the wheelchair was like a snail crawling.

The children’s exclamations drove him forward. He looked at no one, the blue handkerchief draped over his crippled legs, chasing after Henry Brooks ahead.

The cicadas chirped one after another.

Henry Brooks deliberately ran very slowly, clutching his belly and laughing.

Charles Page pushed in the wrong direction.

He couldn’t control the wheelchair, nor did he know how to use his strength.

In that summer at age five, he was like a trapped beast. Agitated and desperate, he drove the wheelchair in pursuit. Stubborn and unwilling to admit defeat.

The other children, not understanding, all laughed at him.

With tears in his eyes, he wanted to grab onto something—so he adjusted the wheelchair again and again.

Emma Bennett stared at him with wide apricot eyes.