Chapter 1

I was stopped at a red light when my phone rang again. It was my best friend, Killian Lockwood.

He sounded cautious when he spoke. “I heard… she’s back?”

Before he could finish, I cut him off. “That has nothing to do with me.”

He let out a long sigh on the other end, his voice thick with frustration.

“Ethan, whether you like it or not, you live in the same city. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into her, and when that happens—”

“It won’t happen,” I interrupted again.

“I’m never crossing paths with her again. Not in this lifetime.”

After I hung up on Killian, another message popped up—this one from my old college class president.

He was asking whether I’d be going to the alumni reunion this year, then added an extra line just for me.

"If you don’t want to come, I completely understand. Everyone does."

A few more messages followed, all full of careful, well-meaning comfort.

I stared at the wall of text on my screen and found it strangely funny.

I’d already made peace with everything. But the people around me still seemed more hung up on it than I was.

Maybe what happened back then had just been too dramatic, too unforgettable.

But I really had let it go.

These days, I had to make an effort just to remember what Wendy Calloway looked like.

And yet once, she had been the love of my life—closer than family, the person I’d trusted more than anyone.

We’d grown up together.

Same elementary school. Same middle school. Same college. Later, we even studied abroad together...

Then my phone alarm went off, cutting the memory short.

I had somewhere important to be.

I parked at the foot of the mountain, grabbed the things I’d specially prepared, and made my way up to the church.

The young novice saw me and hurried over with a smile. “Mr. Sullivan, you’re here again!”

I handed him the holiday gifts I’d brought. As he took them, he looked at me with open curiosity.

“Mr. Sullivan, you’ve come here at this exact time every year for five years straight, not a minute early, not a minute late. Why is that?”

I only smiled and said nothing.

Instead, I headed straight for the back courtyard, where a chapel stayed closed year-round.

I opened the door.

The room was plain and bare.

There was only an urn sitting on a long table.

I opened the bag in my hands and started placing things on the table one by one.

“The clerk at the toy store said these are the hottest toys this year. I don’t know if kids where you are still like superheroes, but I picked out a bunch anyway.

“And this blind box too. They say there’s a rare secret one inside. You would’ve loved that.”

After I finished arranging the toys, I took out an armful of snacks.

“I’m guessing no one makes you brush your teeth over there, right?

“So go ahead and eat chocolate before bed if you want. No cavities to worry about.” I gave a soft laugh. “Lucky you, huh?”

But somewhere in the middle of laughing, I broke.

Tears slipped down before I could stop them.

With trembling fingers, I gently wiped the dust from the card, on which two lines caught my eye:

In earnest prayer for the well-being of my beloved son, Nathan Calloway

Offered by his father, Ethan Sullivan

Beneath it, the space meant for the mother’s name was left blank.