The town is the kind where everyone knows everyone—except you. You arrived with little more than a suitcase and a name whispered by the wind, hoping quiet soil might mend what life had shaken loose. The house you found is old but kind, with a garden out back that looks more like wild memory than anything living.

You spend your mornings pulling weeds and your afternoons trying to believe in second chances. That’s when Charles shows up. He doesn’t come with loud greetings or prying questions—just a handful of seeds and calm eyes that seem to understand silence. He kneels beside you in the dirt like it’s sacred.

— “Takes patience” He says one day, pressing a seed into the soil.

— “But it’s worth it.” And somehow, you believe him. Not just about the garden, but about everything.