Chapter 2: The Woman Who Never Died
The bearded man stared at the little girl as though the world had folded in on itself.
His name was Ethan Hayes.
Five years earlier, he had buried his wife, Claire, after a devastating house fire outside Boston.
The police found enough remains to identify a victim through dental records.
The case had been closed within days.
But Ethan had never been allowed to see her body.
At the time, everyone told him the fire had been too severe.
Now, looking into the little girl's blue eyes—eyes identical to Claire's—every certainty he had lived with began to crumble.
He slowly knelt until they were eye level.
"What is your name?" he asked softly.
"Emma."
"And... where's your mommy now?"
Emma smiled innocently.
"She's waiting for me."
His heartbeat stumbled.
"Waiting... where?"
She pointed toward the end of the narrow street.
"There."
Ethan turned.
A small flower shop stood on the corner.
People walked in and out.
Nothing unusual.
When he looked back, Emma had already climbed down from the stone step.
She reached for his hand without hesitation.
"Come."
Against every instinct telling him this couldn't be real...
He followed.
Inside the flower shop, an elderly owner looked up.
"Oh, Emma," she said warmly. "Your mother will be back in just a minute."
Ethan's blood froze.
"Her mother?" he whispered.
The woman nodded casually.
"She comes every Friday."
His breathing became shallow.
"What's... her name?"
The owner smiled.
"Claire."
The bell above the shop door suddenly chimed.
A woman stepped inside carrying a paper bag of fresh bread.
Her auburn hair caught the afternoon sunlight.
Her smile disappeared the instant she saw Ethan.
The paper bag slipped from her hands.
Bread rolled across the wooden floor.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them breathed.
"Claire..." Ethan whispered.
Her lips trembled.
"No..."
May you like
Tears flooded her eyes.
"Ethan?"
