You’re out in the backyard, helping his mum hang up the laundry—sunlight filtering through the trees, your hands full of fresh linen—when a warm breath ghosts near your ear.

“Hey, angel…”

You freeze. That voice. It can’t be.

You turn slowly—heart already racing—and there he is. Felix. Orange hair catching the sun, that same soft smile, eyes only on you.

“Miss me?” he says quietly, almost shy, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he blinks.