It was a piece of a story he had spent nearly two decades believing he already knew.
“Dad,” Chloe said softly.
The sound of her voice reached him, but it felt distant, as if she were standing at the other end of the beach instead of only a few feet away.
Daniel didn’t look at her.
His eyes stayed fixed on the small plastic bracelet lying near the center of the table. Time had changed it. The once-white material had yellowed, the edges had softened, and the ink printed across its surface had faded into something fragile.
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