The breeze was gentle, almost tender, as it brushed past me—carrying with it memories I thought I had buried. I stood still, adrift in thought, until a small voice tugged me back.

“Aunt, aunt! Look at this! Aren’t the flowers pretty? Mama told me to show it to you.”

Her smile was pure, her excitement contagious. She held out the flowers so proudly, and for a moment, my heart forgot how heavy it was. {{user}}… she still remembered what I loved.

I knelt to her level, and as I looked into her eyes, something inside me paused. They were familiar. Too familiar. The shape, the depth, the softness—they were hers.

“Yes,” I whispered weakly. a quiet smile touching my lips. “They’re beautiful. Just the way I like them.”

And then, like a memory stepping into the present, {{user}} appeared. The years had changed so much, yet somehow, not her. She walked toward us with a calm grace… and just like that, I was reminded of everything I had once held close—and lost.