The good news is that the son is not in love with a robot, and as a father, although he deals with machines every day, if John says that he is in love with a robot, a complete machine lifeform, how will he answer his son.

The bad news is that Ephia evokes a part of his sleeping memory, and the picture gradually distorts, and he falls into another kind of consciousness disorder, which part is real and which part is false, maybe there is no difference, he doesn't know how to figure out what is happening in his consciousness.

Hell, Representative says to himself.

Ephia looked at him, then at John, dazed, as if each other's names had never entered each other's lives.

No fragments of life were left in each of the books exchanged.

Representative Foley then remembers what John would be like now if he was seventeen, and his memory is not so much about what John looked like when he was five.

Rather, the memory breaks at some point in time, and then continues to extend along the trajectory of time in some way that is not noticed. If John had grown up and looked really good, how did he look like he had grown up?

He subconsciously reached out and stroked his back, except for the increasingly loose muscles, there was no abnormality, the memories continued to connect, and a startling discovery made him ecstatic, what kind of robot, moving out to live, it doesn't matter.

The three of them are still together, John, Shamer, and now they have a girlfriend named Ephia.

At least all of this shows that Forlì did not die when John was five years old, and not only that, but he was also able-bodied and full of energy. He lives, lives well.

Thinking of this, Forlì couldn't help but be happy, and he stretched out his right hand to pull Shamel, who was perhaps a little worried about his son, and the sweat oozing from his palms made his whole hand feel like he had been soaked in the pool.

But he held her, his consciousness dancing with unmistakable precision. Ecstasy, gratitude for the mercy of fate. In that case, what other reason did he have to reject John's pursuit of a free life?

"Go, John, and live your life the way you want." When he said this, he felt the honor of being a father, and saw John's increasingly tall figure, perhaps stronger than his younger self.

"Okay, Dad, thank you."

Shamel didn't speak, and Representative found that his right hand was completely submerged in a quiet downpour of rain, and when he looked sideways at his wife, the water ran from her hair, blue embroidered dress, and onto the floor below her ankles, and then she began to become transparent, and her fleshy pink skin seemed to be wrapped in a transparent embryo.

Before Forlì could open his mouth and shout, his skin and muscles vanished.

"John, what's wrong with her."

There was no response from the other side.

"John, tell me what's wrong with Mommy."

"Daddy."

Representative Foley turns around and sees John sitting alone on the couch, the couch that has not moved for more than ten years, and now John is left alone, sitting on it and swaying his body from side to side, like a hypnotic pendulum, and finally turning into a little boy with a blank face.

"John, no, Shamer, what's going on."

The truth is like a tide that goes and comes, imprinting time in the sand.

When people have a lot, they often turn a blind eye and always look for the details of their lack of happiness in the wind and shadows.

And when there is a sudden subtraction in life, completely subtracting a person, the tide that has passed for a long time will creep back to its original place one Monday morning, before the sun comes out to take care of mankind, uncover one scar after another, sprinkle it with sun-dried sea salt, but never bring a word from another world.

"Foley."

"Shamel."

"Foley, cheer up a little Foley."

Representative felt his neck resting against a soft support, and he thought of Berus's injured hand, and he didn't even care about which hand had been injured in the crash. A citrus scent permeated his nostrils, and the smell, the sweetness, woke up to Foley.

"Is that you?" He stared at the face of a woman in front of him.

"Who do you think it is?" The woman asked.

Representative Foley didn't answer, he thought it was Mussel Lingmei, he felt a little ashamed that he thought of Mussel Lingmei, but it was only a flash.

Then he looked at the person in front of him, as if he had used all his strength to hug each other tightly with all his strength, and the other party first hesitated, and then tried to hug him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Representative Foley began to cry like a child, more undisguised than a child, his convulsions incessantly, his words staccato and barely discerning what he was saying.

The staccato pronunciation barely cobbles together "I'm sorry", "I'm sorry", or "I'm sorry". After a long time, when the power of the hug became bearable enough for another person to speak, she said, "It's okay, Foley, it's okay." ”

He cried louder, for the tragedy that had happened and the tomorrow that was yet to come, he wanted to release all his tears and sorrow at such a moment, and he ran after his tears, like chasing a kite and a rainbow that would inevitably fly away, and kept letting the tears soak the woman's lilac blouse.

It seems that from sunrise to dusk, the crew departs from the port to the silent return. Finally they let go of each other and looked at each other, and wept again, almost bitterly again.

Again and again, he tried to stop and start again, and finally Forlì's body was exhausted, but his brain returned to normal sanity and sobriety.

"Efia, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter, Foley, I know it all."

"What do you know?"

The two men sat on the ground, embarrassed by tears and sweat. No one imagined that meeting again would be like this.

Before she came, Ephia had imagined what the two of them would say when they met again, and just now when she saw the door open and hesitated to ring the doorbell, she was still thinking about how to start the first words of the two of them.

And now the two of them sat quietly on the ground like best friends who had shared each other's endless thoughts.

There are no words, only emotional outpouring, the body and consciousness itself pouring out the past and the present, which is far from being able to tell the voice and letters.

"Efia, you've finally appeared."

"Representative Foley, I've never left Los Angeles."

"So where have you been?"

"You just didn't want to look for me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't say you're sorry."

Effia tried to grab Forlì's hand, and he moved slightly.

"I'm sorry." This time it was Ephia's turn to say sorry.

"It doesn't matter, I'm fine, Efia, it's really okay."

"I know."

Ephia's tears welled up in her eyes again, and this time she knew very well what they were grieving, and what they were grieving was that time had passed, and nothing could go back to the past.