The memory hadn't stopped. It flowed forward like a river, now rushing with everything it had hidden for years. Liora didn't try to pull away. She stood quietly as the scene continued to unfold.
The image of the tiny baby named Eli—wrapped in thick blankets, eyes wide and curious—remained burned in her mind. His silver-white hair, his calm little breaths, the way his tiny fingers had curled around hers like they belonged there. It was all so clear now.
And yet...
Her thoughts slowly drifted back to the present.
She turned her gaze, inwardly comparing the child in the memory with the little boy who had been living beside her these past months. Her Eli. The quiet five-year-old she had rescued. He had been dirty, thin, and scared—but those eyes had stopped her. Eyes that felt familiar.
She had named him Eli without thinking.
At the time, it had seemed like instinct.
Now, she wasn't so sure.
