I can barely breathe. But I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.
"Thank you," I say, looking up at Dawson. "You've given me my life back. I haven't known peace in ten years. Not until this very moment. I feel whole again. I canfinally breathe. I could die this instant and have absolutely nothing to complain about."
"Well, that's not gonna happen," Tina cuts in. "This isn’t the end, Elle. It’s the start of a whole new chapter."
"You're most welcome," Dawson replies, quiet pride shining in his eyes. "I need to head out, but I’ll email you the complete report with everything I found. If anything comes up, you know how to reach me. It was nice meeting you, Tina."
"Likewise," Tina says, giving him a flirty smile as he walks away, his job done.
"Are you okay?" she asks, gently rubbing my back.
I nod, wiping my eyes, then find Izzy on the field again. "Isn't she beautiful?"
"She is," Tina says softly. "She looks like you."
"I think she looks like our mother," I murmur. "I have a couple of pictures of her and Dad. Izzy’s the spitting image. Same eyes. Same smile."
Out on the field, Izzy stands tall in front of the goal, her gloved hands resting on her hips, legs planted in a wide stance. She’s alert, focused, scanning the field like she’s ready to launch herself in any direction. When the opposing team charges toward the goal, my breath catches. The ball cuts through defenders like a bullet, and Izzy moves. Fast. She dives to the left, arms outstretched, and blocks it. A cheer goes up from the crowd, and my hands fly to my mouth as a sob breaks free.
"She’s amazing," I whisper, overwhelmed by pride, awe, and heartbreak all at once.
I watch her pop back up to her feet, brushing off her knees and flashing a triumphant grin at her teammates. It’s the smile that guts me, so full of life and confidence, like she knows exactly who she is.
Tina squeezes my hand. “She looks happy, Elle.”
I nod, my eyes never leaving Izzy. “She does. And for now… that’s enough. I’ll wait. As long as it takes. But one day, I’ll tell her everything.”
Chapter 6
Cal
Walnut’s always been one of my favorite woods to work with. The color’s rich, and the grain’s got a way of standing out just enough to make a piece feel like it’s got some history behind it, even when it’s brand new.
I plane the lid until it’s smooth enough to catch the light just right. I run my hand along the beveled edge, checking for any rough spots. I go slower than usual, double-checking everything. If this thing’s going to hold Elle’s keepsakes, it needs to be perfect.
The carving on the front took some time to figure out. I didn’t want anything too fancy, just something personal. I settled on a simple floral design, soft curves, nothing showy. But right in the center, I added her name.Elle.Clean, subtle lettering, tucked just above the petals like it’s always belonged there. It felt right, like the piece finally had a purpose once her name was on it.
It isn't big—ten inches wide, six deep, and four tall—but it doesn’t need to be. It’s built to hold what matters. I lined the inside with velvet in a deep violet color. It's elegant but still warm. Like her.
The hinges are tight, tucked in enough to keep the lines clean. The lid closes with that soft click I always aim for. No squeak. No wobble. Just solid work, the way it should be.
Truth is, this box isn’t complicated. But every cut, every carve, every minute I spent sanding, it all meant something. More than I’ve put into a project in a long time.
Because it’s for her.
And yeah, that matters more than I want to admit.
***
"Well, hello," Elle's voice rings out through the shop, light, unmistakably cheerful.
When I turn, she's standing in the doorway, smiling like the world just tilted in her favor. It's the kind of smile that says either she hit the jackpot, or life finally handed her something she’s been waiting a lifetime for.
I quickly toss a towel over the box on my workbench before she sees it. It’s not finished yet, and I want the moment to be right when I give it to her. Right now, whatever she's carrying in that smile feels bigger than anything I’ve got under a towel.
"What’s going on?" I ask, wiping my hands on a rag. "You look radiant."
"Really?" she says, brushing a hand over her forehead. "Maybe I’m just sweaty. I just got back from the park."
