They sent me back to school after Christmas break as if nothing had happened. I graduated valedictorian with hollow eyes. I went to college in California because it was as far away as I could get. I studied psychology, ironically, trying to understand how people could be so cruel. I dated, I traveled, I built a career as a grief counselor. But every night, in the quiet dark, I whispered his name — the one I’d chosen before they took him: *Liam*.
I never told anyone the full truth. Not my therapist. Not the few close friends I made. The shame they drilled into me was too deep.
Now, at thirty-eight, I’d moved back to Connecticut after my divorce. My father, widowed and battling early Parkinson’s, lived with me. I told myself it was duty. Really, I think part of me wanted him to finally see what his choices had cost.
Our neighborhood was quiet, filled with young families and retirees. Then, three days ago, the moving truck arrived next door.
I was watering the hydrangeas when he stepped out of the truck. Tall, athletic build, dark curls that caught the sunlight, sharp jawline, and those unmistakable eyes — the same shape as mine, the same slight upward tilt at the corners. My chin. My nose. My everything.
My watering can slipped from my fingers and clattered on the porch.
He turned, smiled easily, and walked over. “Hi, I’m Miles. Looks like we’re neighbors.”
I managed to shake his hand. His grip was warm, steady. “Elena,” I whispered. “Welcome.”
That night I barely slept. The next morning I found excuses to be outside — checking the mail, pulling imaginary weeds. I watched him unload boxes. When he caught me staring, he waved. I forced a smile and retreated inside.
My father was in the living room reading the paper. When I told him about the new neighbor and how much he looked like… well, like *him*, his hands started trembling so badly the newspaper shook.
“You’re imagining it,” he snapped, too quickly. “Don’t start this again, Elena. The past is dead and buried.”
But his voice cracked on the last word. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
