He gently placed the bag in front of her.
“What is it?” she asked suspiciously.
“Open it,” he said softly.
She peeked inside and let out a cry of surprise.
Books. Shoes. A teddy bear. Everything new and shining.
Her suspicion softened.
“Is this really for me?”
Mika nodded.
“If you’ll accept it.”
“Yes.”
She looked down, then up at him again.
“If you’re not bad, I’ll take you to see my mommy. But no lies. If you lie, I’ll never talk to you again.”
He smiled.
“Okay.”
They walked in silence along winding paths until they reached a small, ruined hut at the edge of the village. The walls were cracked, the roof patched with rusted metal sheets and old fabric.
Hope knocked gently.
“Mommy, someone came.”
The wooden door creaked open.
A tired woman stood there, her skin pale with fever, her eyes half-closed—until they met Mika’s.
She froze.
He looked at her.
Something passed through her eyes.
Something from another time.
The woman at the door did not speak. Her hand trembled against the frame. Her breathing quickened.
Fever, or fear?
Mika did not know.
He took a step forward.
“You must be her mother. I’m Mika.”
She cut him off with one word.
“Grace.”
He blinked.
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