The house was quiet, except for the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. A breeze rustled the wind chimes outside the bedroom window — soft, musical, familiar.

The same breeze that used to tangle in JJ's messy blond hair.

{{user}} sat cross-legged on the edge of Marley’s bed, one hand gently combing through her daughter’s curls — her own hair, but streaked with honey from the sun. Marley had JJ’s eyes. Everyone said so. Wide and ocean-blue, as expressive as a thousand words she didn’t know yet.

And like him, she fought sleep like it were a wave she could ride forever.

“Okay,” {{user}} said softly, smiling at the little face peeking out from beneath the covers. “One more story. Then you sleep for real this time.”

Marley grinned, dimples deepening — just like his.

“Tell the one with the boat,” she whispered, eyes sparkling.

{{user}} told the story — the stolen tour boat, the crab, the yelling. Marley laughed in that big, open way that made {{user}} feel like maybe things were gonna be okay, even if they’d never be the same.

And just as {{user}} thought she’d finally gotten her down, Marley looked up, her voice soft and small and curious in the dark:

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“What was he like?” she whispered. “Dad.”