Frank sat in the soft, sun-warmed sand, helping Mary shape the towers of their growing sandcastle. Their laughter echoed between the waves, light and carefree. The setting sun spilled across the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with molten gold, rose, and amethyst.

A little further down the beach, a woman walked slowly along the shoreline. The tide kissed her feet with every step, and the wind played with her hair, lifting it like silk caught in a summer breeze. She seemed to belong to the moment—half real, half dream.

Mary looked up, eyes wide, and nudged her uncle. “Look, Frank. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Frank turned.

And then time stopped.

His smile faltered. His breath hitched. A flicker of disbelief crossed his face, then something deeper—recognition, tangled with something unspoken.

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A name unspoken for years echoed in his mind. She wasn’t just beautiful. She was a memory brought to life. A ghost from his past. A chapter he never thought he’d reread.

He knew her.

From another life, another version of himself. And now—she was here.