"It's unthinkable. The Mitchells are the wealthiest clan. How could he wind up here too?"
"Nothing's beyond the realm of possibility. Perhaps I don't grasp your social circles, but I understand that those deemed useless are cast aside."
Alexander was indeed a discarded individual.
However, he wasn't actually operating sewing machines in jail. He was in a psychiatric facility.
The physician claimed he suffered from acute schizophrenia. I was uncertain if this diagnosis was accurate or fabricated.
That is, until the day I encountered him once more.
The educational institution organized for students to perform community service at hospitals and care homes.
I stumbled upon him while tidying rooms at the psychiatric ward.
Alexander was perched quietly in an armchair, engrossed in a book, donning blue and white striped hospital attire.
Without warning, he glanced up and noticed me.
Alexander's face lit up with a smile: "Lily, you truly came to visit me."