Chapter 9 - The Memory Walk
Later that afternoon, as the sun began to set behind the trees of Forest Park, painting the sky in breathtaking shades of amber, gold, and soft lavender, Ethan and the girls walked through the quiet park paths.
Emma, now fourteen months old, was happily riding on Ethan’s broad shoulders, her small hands holding onto his hair while she pointed at the ducks swimming in the park pond.
Lily walked beside Ethan, her hand comfortably wrapped inside his large, warm palm.
"Ethan?" Lily asked softly, looking up at him as their boots crunched against the dry autumn leaves.
"Yes, Lily?"
"Do you think Mama can see us?" Lily asked, her voice quiet and thoughtful.
Ethan stopped walking. He looked out over the glowing water of the pond, then looked down into Lily’s dark brown eyes—the same eyes he had seen six months ago dripping with rainwater in a hospital waiting room.
"I know she can, Lily," Ethan said gently, dropping down to one knee so he was eye-level with her. "She sees how brave you were. She sees how much you love Emma. And she knows that you will never be alone again."
Lily smiled—a deep, serene expression of pure safety and peace.
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small, dried yellow leaf, pressing it into Ethan’s hand. "This is for your desk."
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Ethan took the leaf, his heart overflowing with a warmth so immense that he knew the cold shadow of October 14 was gone forever.
"Thank you, sweetie," Ethan whispered.
