“You can keep the flowers,” he said.
The girl blinked, surprised.
“No… you should take one,” she insisted, holding out a single rose.
For a moment, Ethan almost refused.
Then his eyes dropped to her hands.
And froze.
Around her neck, resting just above the collar of her faded shirt, was a thin silver necklace.
A small pendant.
A crescent moon.
His breath caught.
“Where did you get that?” he asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
The girl instinctively stepped back, clutching the flowers closer.
“My mom gave it to me,” she said cautiously.
Ethan stared at the pendant.
He knew it.
He knew it because he had bought it years ago—on a night that now felt like a different lifetime. A gift for a woman he had once loved deeply.
Lena.
The only person who had ever walked away from him… and never come back.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
“Mia,” she replied.
The world seemed to tilt slightly.
“How old are you?”
“Eight.”
Ethan’s chest tightened.
Eight years.
Eight years since Lena disappeared without explanation. No goodbye. No explanation. Just gone.
He had searched at first—quietly, through contacts and influence—but when nothing surfaced, he told himself she had chosen to leave.