Noah reached out and touched the headstone gently. “The wristband was mine from the night of the surgery. ‘One year today. Still going.’ It was my one-year survival mark. I brought it here to show her that her gift wasn’t wasted.” Daniel sat on the wet ground for a long time, unable to speak.
The sun had fully risen, casting long, golden shafts of light through the oak trees, making the water droplets on the grass glitter like thousands of tiny diamonds. He looked at the deep green turf over Emma’s grave. He looked at the four empty water jugs, the trowel, and the handwritten notes. All this time, he had believed he was chasing a ghost, a stalker, or an enemy.