The day I went to visit my wife’s grave like I did every year, I found a barefoot child lying on the headstone, clutching her photo. He whispered, ‘Sorry, Mom’… and I realized my wife had been hiding a secret from me our entire marriage.

Aaron nodded and followed him, moving carefully through the rooms, touching nothing. David prepared a guest room, though he worried it might feel too impersonal. That night, David read through documents Lucinda had left behind, including a letter addressed to him that he had never opened.

In it, she wrote about loneliness, about feeling unheard, and about her hope that Aaron might someday have a family. David sat awake until dawn, understanding too late what she had tried to give him.

Days later, a lawyer contacted David to discuss transferring Aaron to another family that was ready to adopt. David listened in silence before ending the call.

That night, he found Aaron sitting on the hallway floor.

“Why are you there?” David asked.

“The floor feels safer,” Aaron replied.

David sat beside him. “I am scared,” he admitted. “I do not know how to do this right. But I do know that I do not want you to feel alone again.”

Aaron looked at him carefully. “Does that mean I can stay?”

David nodded, emotion tightening his voice. “Yes. It does.”