CHAPTER 2: THE BOY FROM THE LAST NIGHT
The ballroom stood frozen.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
The little girl's lips trembled.
"You were there..."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Yet those three words shattered a year of silence.
The microphone slipped from her father's hand and crashed onto the floor.
Guests gasped.
Tears instantly filled the father's eyes.
"Emma..."
It was the first time he had heard his daughter's voice since her mother's death.
The boy remained calm.
As though this moment had always been meant to happen.
The little girl stared at him.
"I remember you."
The room fell silent again.
The father stepped forward.
"What does she mean?" he asked.
The boy finally looked at him.
"Because I was there that night."
A chill swept through the ballroom.
The father frowned.
"That's impossible."
The boy slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver necklace.
The little girl gasped.
It was her mother's necklace.
The one that had disappeared after the accident.
The father stared at it in disbelief.
"Where did you get that?"
The boy looked toward the chandeliers above.
"My grandmother gave it to me."
Then his eyes returned to the father.
"Because she was the woman who found your wife before she died."
A wave of shock swept through the guests.
For one year everyone believed the woman had died instantly.
But suddenly that story no longer seemed true.
The little girl grabbed the necklace with shaking hands.
Memories flooded back.
Her mother kneeling beside her.
Her mother crying.
Her mother whispering:
May you like
"If anything happens to me, trust the boy."
And now the boy stood before her again.
