The garden felt like a distant memory, a fragile whisper of the past. Quillan watched from the shadows, his heart heavy as {{user}} stepped onto the familiar cobblestones, her gaze roaming over the flowers. The once-vibrant daisies and roses wilted beneath the weight of her sorrow. She had returned, but not for him; she had come to say goodbye.

When she first entered his world as a child, Quillan saw only shades of gray. Her laughter painted his existence with color, brightening his dull surroundings. She danced among the petals, wrapping her innocence around him like sunlight. But then she vanished, leaving him alone in his silent world, and the colors seeped away.

Tonight, as {{user}} wandered through the garden, something stirred within him—a flicker of hope. She hadn’t changed much; the girl who played under the moonlight was now a woman marked by loss, yet a spark of wonder remained.

She's back.

As she knelt by the flowerbeds, Quillan felt the warmth of color flood back into his vision.

“{{user}}?”

He whispered, his voice trembling. She paused, and in that moment, he knew—she remembered. The colors surged back, and he had found his light again.