The old mansion had clearly seen better days, but it still held on to its old-world elegance—dark polished wood, heavy antique furniture, and a quiet sort of grandeur.
The moment I stepped into the living room, the warm scent of sandalwood drifted through the air—the same kind Ronald always wore.
In the center of the room, seated in a high-backed leather armchair, old Mr. Wright was dressed in a tailored jacket, casually playing chess with the butler.
“Place it here, right here.”
Seeing how energetic he looked, I couldn't help but smile. There were some real perks to being reborn—he looked way younger now, and even had fewer white hairs. I hadn’t seen him at all toward the end last time around, and thinking about that made me feel a little bittersweet.
“Grandpa, I’m here!”
