Also, if it weren’t for Dad, then Mr. Chrysanthemum would not have invited me. Then, I would’ve never had the dream which led me to Casimir, or found his handkerchief on the table in the library. Because of these happenings, I had met him on that mystifying night.
The matter of my life was, in part, an intricate and complex web of causes and effects; one event leading up to another. I could still not tell what intertwined into the present, but now I knew that nothing was a mistake. On the occasions when I had cried and dubbed fate to be too cruel, I was justly woeful. But at least now I knew that no tear had been shed in vain to reveal a promising rainbow.