Half a month later, I saw the news about Aaron's hair turning white overnight. In the photos, he wore a sleek black suit, his face gaunt, his snow-white hair standing out starkly. Since the wedding, this was his first public appearance, at a press conference for the York Group charitable foundation.
Meanwhile, I was in a small, remote coastal village, teaching at an orphanage, a childhood dream come true. I felt strangely lucky; half a month had passed, and cancer hadn’t claimed my life just yet.
The village was simple, its facilities basic—just a small, rundown clinic and no large hospital. But the view was breathtaking. The weather stayed warm year-round, and unlike the heavy snow in Frosthaven, my knees no longer ached in the cold. I could gaze out at the endless ocean every day.
