Chapter 62. Gentle Ripples

I had never lit a candle for anyone other than my mother in my entire life. Yet, today, I found myself doing just that. As the flame flickered and the wax gradually melted away, my tears mirrored the dwindling light. I sat there, staring at the small table where the candle stood, lost in a sea of emotions.

In a hushed tone, I whispered, "You would have loved to meet your child."

Facing the harsh reality that Pier was no longer with us was a challenge. I acknowledged his passing, but acceptance eluded me. The ache was undeniable. It wasn't as if his departure was entirely unexpected; the thought had crossed my mind when he went missing. Yet, I clung to hope, fervently praying that the worst-case scenario wouldn't be our reality. But, as they say, not all wishes find fulfillment.

When Silas handed me the letter from the Department of Foreign Affairs, the words seemed to dance before my eyes, and I grappled with an unexpected sense like I had dyslexia, struggling to c