How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Fleming's words had barely faded.

The light in Esmeralda's eyes dimmed, and a lump caught in her throat so suddenly it almost hurt.

She couldn't quite put her feelings into words. It was as if nothing was technically wrong, yet every detail stabbed at her heart, one after another.

She hadn't expected Fleming to say "It's gone" so calmly.

As if it was nothing. As if it never really mattered.

But he knew exactly how much it meant to her-how hard she'd worked to get it back for him. He'd always known.

Back then, Fleming would look at her with this complicated, helpless expression, gently ruffling her hair. "What am I going to do with you, huh? You really think this will help? Look at you-running around, getting yourself into trouble for me."

She'd always just grin, proud of herself. "It's how I show I care. If I put my heart into it, maybe God will notice and keep you safe."

She could still remember, clear as day, that there had been a softness in Fleming's gaze, even if he wasn't the sort to show his feelings easily. In those moments, she'd felt something different—something almost tender—from him.

But now, her little token of good luck was gone.

Esmeralda stared at the new trinket dangling from the rearview mirror-a lavender rabbit charm. For a long time, she said nothing, even after Fleming seemed to think the matter was settled.

Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet: "Can you take it down? I just... I don't really like it. It doesn't suit you."

ask who had

knew, but she

made her

started the car, glancing at the little purple rabbit out of the corner of his

question back at her, his

Esmeralda understood what he meant. He didn't want to

making a mountain out of a molehill. Maybe she was overthinking it, letting her imagination run wild, maybe even just... being

and Lucy were just like brother and sister. She was probably

shake the feeling

And yet...

seem to notice

and finally-almost bravely- asked, "Fleming, do you even like me

He frowned, as if the question had

his

those words-don't go imagining things-left Esmeralda with a bitter taste

was as if the feelings that needed to be addressed were suddenly stuck in her throat, impossible to

what he said. What

it would just get brushed aside with another "Don't go

She exhaled quietly. "Okay."

The car fell silent.

years, that he and Esmeralda weren't the type to get caught up in