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Toward the swing.

The place where my family once laughed.

Without another word… I started walking.

Each step felt heavier than the last. The park hadn’t changed as much as I’d expected. The slide had fresh paint. The benches had been replaced. The rope holding the swing was newer.

But the tree…

The tree remained.

Its roots still pushed through the earth exactly where Lily used to jump from them, pretending the ground was lava. I stopped beneath the lowest branch. The swing drifted gently in the breeze.

Creak.

Creak.

Creak.

My fingers found the rough bark.

Cold.

Solid

Unmoving.

I closed my eyes.

Daddy, higher!

The laughter arrived before I could stop it.

Theresa’s voice followed. Not so high!

A smile.

One I’d spent years trying to remember.

I opened my eyes.

Nothing.

No message.

No package.

No clue.

No answer.

Only ghosts.

My phone vibrated.

I ignored it.

The swing creaked again.