f her. Seeing him like this, Edith let out a sigh like to someone hopeless, and was about to pass him to enter the inner room.

As she walked past Raphael''s chair, he suddenly grasped her arm tightly.

"Look at me, please," he said with a heart-wrenching smile. "At least I resemble him, don''t I?"

"You don''t have to be like this, Raphael." Edith tried to pry his fingers off her sleeve, but he held on so tight, refusing to let go. "How are you letting emotions trap you once again?"

"Look at me once more, dear Edith! You wouldn''t be so cruel to a man who has no much time left, especially one who loves you so bitterly!"

"Nothing''s happening to you. Don''t be foolish, Raphael!" Her voice trembled as she turned her head away, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Upon hearing the sound of Charlene''s wheelchair turning behind them, Raphael let his arm fall forlornly.

"What''s wrong, Edith?" Charlene asked cautiously.

Edith parted her lips a few times, but in the end, she couldn''t bring herself to express Lucile''s misgiving.

-----------------------

"Enough, Mother!" Edith heard Philippe''s wrathful voice as she passed her aunt''s bedroom. "How many times have I told you not to listen to those meaningless rumours? That fortune-teller is a shameful witch and a crook!"

"Please don''t torture me anymore, my dear son," Aunt Adele''s voice was tearful. "That gypsy woman was absolutely sure, we have an undead in our house, a Satan worshipper with hands stained by blood! Who else could it be but Quenet? He