Months later, the asters in the garden bloomed in a vibrant explosion of purple. Elias stood by the gate, looking at the flowers swaying in the breeze. He knew that the past couldn't be rewritten, and the lost years wouldn't come back. But as he touched a petal, he felt at peace.
The last letter in the attic wasn't just a goodbye; it was a bridge. And though his father wasn't there to walk across it with him, Elias was no longer standing on the other side alone.