PART 2: The Bracelet at the Daughter’s Grave
Rowan froze mid-step.
The white lilies slipped slightly in his grip as his eyes locked onto the bracelet around the boy’s wrist.
It was unmistakable.
Small. Silver. Tarnished at the edges.
The same bracelet he had placed inside his daughter’s coffin three years ago.
His voice dropped, rough and unsteady.
“Where did you get that?”
The boy trembled, pressed against the pine tree, shaking his head like he didn’t understand the question—or was too afraid to answer it.
Behind Rowan, the wind moved through the cemetery louder now, cutting between the headstones like something waking up.
Rowan stepped closer, slower this time.
Fury faded into confusion.
“Talk to me,” he said, quieter. “That bracelet was buried.”
The boy’s lips quivered.
“I… I didn’t take it,” he whispered. “I found it here.”
Rowan’s grip tightened.
His gaze snapped to the disturbed soil near the grave.
Fresh dirt.
Recently moved.
Not old enough to belong to memory.
The boy swallowed hard and pointed weakly at the headstone.
“She told me to come,” he said.
Rowan went still.
The lilies slipped from his hand completely this time, falling into the wet grass.
His daughter’s name carved into stone stared back at him under the gray sky.
And for the first time in three years—
Rowan wasn’t sure if he had been visiting a grave…
or being called back to one.
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