"I never told her I was proud of her," he whispered. "The war took me before she bloomed."
"Thank you," he breathed. "It's like she… just heard me."
The daughter—young, startled—blinked back tears. Then she smiled. And somewhere in the fabric of time, a wound that had festered for five decades began to close.
"I never told her I was proud of her," he whispered. "The war took me before she bloomed."
"Thank you," he breathed. "It's like she… just heard me."
The daughter—young, startled—blinked back tears. Then she smiled. And somewhere in the fabric of time, a wound that had festered for five decades began to close.