You love her, right?
Right, right, the one I love... Is her
This is a silent tsunami imprisoned by blood and worldliness. The sisters are each watching at the edge of the abyss: the elder sister exhausts her courage while she hesitates to speak, and the younger sister buries her sincerity in the hasty escape. The most painful realization came later than death - when my sister read the diary, those temptations, avoidances and forced smiles finally turned into heart-wrenching cries: "The one I love... Is her!" The brother-in-law's insightful question ("You love her, right?") Became the only echo of this forbidden love.
Concept: Love is late. When you find out that you love her, the time has actually been staggered.