Atop the polished marble headstone he had personally designed, Jonathan noticed a small shape. At first, he assumed it was an animal. As he drew closer, his heart began to race.
It was a child.
A young boy, no more than five, slept curled on Eleanor’s grave. Jonathan froze. The boy’s face, smudged with dirt, was unmistakable. He looked exactly like Eleanor as a child—same wide eyes, same delicate features.
Then Jonathan saw what the boy clutched in his hand.
A gold locket engraved with “J + E,” set with a small diamond.
The same locket Jonathan had placed around Eleanor’s neck before her burial.
The boy stirred and opened his eyes—green, identical to Eleanor’s.
“Hi,” the child whispered.
Jonathan crouched slowly. “Hi… who are you?”
“I’m Oliver,” the boy said, tightening his grip on the locket. “My mom is here. Eleanor. She told me to wait. She said someone who loved her would come.”
Jonathan’s chest tightened. “Where is your mom now?”
Oliver pointed to the grave.
Jonathan reached out. “Come with me. We’ll figure this out together.”
The boy hesitated, then took his hand.