Margaret asked quietly what became of him. Vicky’s face grew gentle. “He stayed here the rest of his life. Opened a little woodworking shop, taught apprentices. Died about ten years ago, heart trouble. It was peaceful, at home, and with friends around him. We still talk about him like he’s just stepped out.”
The weight of it settled on Margaret’s shoulders, but it wasn’t sorrow alone. There was comfort in knowing his life had ended not in mystery or violence, but in community. “People lit up when he walked in,” Vicky said, eyes shining. “That’s his legacy. He left warmth behind.”