Chapter 4
The next afternoon, the park looked almost exactly the same.
Gray clouds drifted lazily overhead.
Golden and crimson leaves covered the winding pathways.
Harold sat beneath the old oak tree, a book resting quietly in his lap.
Across from him, Sophie carried two cups of hot chocolate.
She smiled.
"I figured autumn tastes better with this."
Harold chuckled.
"Lily used to say the same thing."
It was the first genuine laugh Sophie had heard from him.
It sounded... younger.
Lighter.
Almost hopeful.
As they talked, a quiet sound interrupted them.
A child crying.
Not loudly.
Just enough to be heard between the rustling leaves.
Sophie immediately stood.
The sound came from behind a nearby hedge.
There, sitting alone on a bench, was a little boy.
No older than six.
He clutched a small backpack against his chest.
Tears streamed silently down his face.
Harold slowly approached.
"Hello there."
The boy looked up but didn't answer.
Sophie knelt beside him.
"Are you lost?"
He nodded.
"My mom..."
"...I can't find my mom."
Without hesitation, Sophie took off her cardigan and wrapped it around the shivering boy.
Harold smiled quietly.
"Lily always carried an extra sweater."
Sophie looked at him.
"I guess she taught me without ever meeting me."
Harold's eyes filled with tears again.
They brought the boy to the park office.
The staff immediately began making announcements over the loudspeaker.
"Attention, visitors..."
"If you are missing a young boy wearing a red jacket..."
Minutes passed.
No one came.
Thirty minutes.
Still no one.
The little boy stared at the floor.
"My mom always comes."
Harold gently squeezed his shoulder.
"I'm sure she's looking for you."
An hour later...
A woman burst through the office door.
Her hair was soaked from the rain.
Her face was pale with panic.
"Ethan!"
The little boy jumped from his chair.
"Mom!"
They ran into each other's arms.
The woman held him so tightly she could barely breathe.
She kept repeating,
"I'm so sorry."
"I'm so sorry."
After calming down, she turned toward Sophie and Harold.
"I don't know how to thank you."
Sophie smiled.
"You don't have to."
The woman shook her head.
"No."
"You don't understand."
She looked down at Ethan.
"My husband died last year."
"Today was the first time I brought Ethan back to the park."
"It was my husband's favorite place."
She wiped away fresh tears.
"When Ethan disappeared..."
"I thought..."
"...I had lost the last piece of my family."
Harold quietly looked toward the oak tree.
He understood that feeling better than anyone.
Before leaving, Ethan reached into his backpack.
He pulled out a tiny handmade bracelet woven from colorful threads.
"I made this at school."
He held it toward Harold.
"You can have it."
Harold looked surprised.
"For me?"
The little boy nodded.
"My teacher says..."
"When someone helps you..."
"You should leave them with something that helps them remember you're friends."
Harold's hands trembled as he accepted the bracelet.
It looked strangely familiar.
So did the words.
Years ago...
Lily had made friendship bracelets exactly like this.
Harold smiled through tears.
"Thank you."
"I'll treasure it."
That evening, as Sophie walked Harold home, she noticed something.
The old brown wallet was still in his coat pocket.
She smiled.
"So..."
"Are you going to keep leaving it around the park?"
Harold stopped walking.
He gently removed the wallet.
He opened it.
Inside was still Lily's photograph.
But now...
Beside it was another picture.
Sophie looked surprised.
It was a photograph Michael had secretly taken the day before.
Harold and Sophie sitting together beneath the old oak tree, both smiling.
Harold carefully placed both photographs side by side.
"My daughter gave me my happiest memories."
He looked at Sophie warmly.
"And she also gave me a reason to make new ones."
Then...
For the first time in twenty years...
He removed the wallet from his pocket...
Walked to the nearby trash bin...
And threw it away.
Sophie gasped.
"Are you sure?"
Harold nodded.
"I don't need to lose my wallet anymore."
He gently touched the photograph in his coat pocket instead.
"Because I finally found what I was looking for."
As they continued walking beneath the falling autumn leaves, Harold suddenly received a phone call.
His smile slowly disappeared.
After a few seconds, he whispered,
"...What do you mean you found her diary?"
He froze.
"Lily's diary burned in the accident."
The voice on the other end replied,
"We thought so too."
Harold looked at Sophie in disbelief.
May you like
"They found it..."
"...inside an unopened evidence box."
