The grave was simple—a small mound of earth marked by a single stone.
William knelt before it, his hands resting on his knees, his head bowed. The wind whispered through the mountains, carrying the scent of pine and snow. The sky was clear, the sun warm on his back.
"It's beautiful," Elara said, coming to stand beside him.
"She would have liked it here."
William reached out and touched the stone. It was smooth, cold, unmarked. No name. No dates. Just the silent witness to a life that had ended too soon.
"I don't know what to say," he said.
"Then don't say anything."
He was silent for a long moment.
"She believed in him. Even when he didn't believe in himself. She believed that he could change. That he could choose differently."
"And he did?"
"He tried. But he couldn't let go of h
