In the mourning hall, white chrysanthemums surrounded a portrait of the deceased. The black and white photograph showed a familiar face with a faint smile, looking down with sorrow and pity at his eldest daughter who had rushed to mourn his passing.
"Sienna?"
As soon as Sienna Johnson appeared, it was just as she had expected—like a drop of water falling into a hot frying pan, causing oil to splatter everywhere.
At this moment, her mind and eyes were filled only with her father. She had no time to care about the emotions of others. "Dad, I'm late... I'm late..."
She grieved that she hadn't even seen her father for the last time. Sienna Johnson knelt before her father's portrait in the mourning hall, kowtowing repeatedly, her forehead striking the floor. Noah Phillips quickly supported her, preventing her from continuing.
