That evening, he and Marie sat on the porch as dusk softened the sky. The yard felt lighter, somehow different with its mystery unravelled, and tension released. Marie leaned against him and whispered, “Some secrets aren’t meant to stay buried forever.”
Walter nodded, watching fireflies blink across the grass. The ground was finally still, its burden lifted. What had begun as a simple curiosity became a bridge between past and present. Some lives vanish without a trace—but sometimes, by chance and persistence, they are remembered again.