Chapter 19 - Ghosts in the Snow|
On a crisp, sunny Sunday afternoon in late January, a dark SUV pulled up to the stone gates of Pinecrest Memorial Cemetery on the outskirts of Knoxville.
The snow lay fresh and pristine over the rolling hills of the quiet park.
Ethan stepped out of the driver's seat, wearing his heavy wool overcoat. He walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for Hannah and reaching into the back seat to unbuckle ten-month-old Ellie from her car seat.
For four years, Ethan had avoided this place. The pain had been a mountain he couldn't climb. But today, holding Ellie securely in his arms while Hannah walked beside him, his steps were steady.
They walked up a gentle slope beneath the snow-covered oak trees, stopping before a small, polished granite headstone engraved with a single name: LILY WHITMORE.
The quiet in the cemetery was peaceful, broken only by the soft rustle of winter wind through the branches above.
Ethan knelt down in the soft snow before the stone. He set the antique rosewood music box gently onto the marble base, wound the small brass key on the back three times, and opened the lid.
The delicate notes of Silent Night drifted softly into the winter air.
Ellie reached out from Hannah’s arms, pointing her small gloved hand at the spinning mechanism and let out a happy, soft coo.
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Ethan looked up at Hannah, his gray eyes shining in the winter sunlight. For four long years, he had lived in a dark conference room, hiding from the world and nursing a broken heart.
A single mother with a squeaky stroller and an unyielding sense of honesty had walked into his darkness and turned the lights back on.
