At dawn, he drove back to the stall. Nora was there, humming softly as she arranged fruit.

“Morning, Mr. Ward,” she greeted with a bright smile.

He nodded, his chest tight. “Nora… did your mother ever talk about your father?”

She looked down. “Not much. She just said he was a good man who made mistakes. She never hated him. She said love doesn’t disappear—it just changes shape.”

Sebastian’s throat ached. Even after everything, Amelia had spoken of him with grace.

He asked if Nora had any photos, and she showed him her cracked phone. On the screen was an old picture—Amelia in a hospital room, holding a newborn baby. Her eyes were tired but full of light. Around her neck gleamed the same crescent pendant.