He laughed softly. “You’re growing up too fast.”

She grinned — that same mischievous spark her mom used to have. “I’ll save you a cookie from lunch.”

“Deal,” he said, and kissed the top of her head.

As he walked toward the door, he heard her voice ring out behind him, clear and confident. “Bye, Daddy! I love you!”

Every parent turned to look, and he turned too, smiling despite the tears in his eyes. “I love you too, peanut.”

Outside, the autumn air felt different — lighter somehow. Ethan sat in his truck, staring at the school building. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the crushing weight of grief pressing on his chest. Instead, he felt something like… peace.

He thought of his wife — her laughter, her warmth, the way she used to say, “One day, you’ll see her take off on her own. And you’ll realize you did okay.”