Several months had passed since her decision to drastically change her life. At first, everything went well. Miku stayed with a friend, and thanks to her talent, she quickly found work. But her father used his connections to interfere, and the doors that had been opening for her gradually began to close.
She fought as hard as she could, but every attempt felt like slamming her head against a concrete wall. During these months, she had faced the difficulties of living independently for the first time. Yet, despite everything, she did not regret her choice.
But today, everything changed.
When she returned home, a drunk guy—her friend's friend—started harassing her. She tried to fight back and was hit several times in the face. Only a desperate, fear-driven kick to his balls allowed her to break free.
Now she sat on a park bench, crying. Her clothes were torn, her body shaking from cold and terror. Luckily, the weather was warm—she'd lost her shoes while running.
The only thing she had left was the bag she'd grabbed before fleeing, because her phone was inside. All she wanted now was to call her father. Yes, he would lecture her at length about how stupid she was, how he'd always been right, and how he only wanted the best for her. Part of her knew she would regret that call later. But right now, she just wanted someone to be there. She wanted to feel safe again.
Childhood memories of her father being the one who gave her that feeling made her push aside her doubts and start rifling through her bag.
But her phone was gone.
There was another problem: Miku had a perfect memory for melodies, but numbers—especially phone numbers—had been her Achilles' heel since school.
Desperate, Miku kept searching through her bag… and found a long-forgotten business card that had been sitting there for months.
Biting her lip, she looked around. Seeing an elderly woman walking her dog, she politely approached.
"Ma'am, could I borrow your phone? I need to make a call."
It was late at night, so Miku was surprised the woman was out so late. But that didn't matter now.
Hearing her words, the old woman flinched, but after looking closely at the girl, she quickly came over and asked with concern:
"Sweetheart, are you okay?"
"Not really… But don't worry, it'll be fine. Can I just make a call?"
Because he hadn't wanted his past to affect Deya, Ray had not only changed his last name but also his city and even his country. However, part of Lily's, Amy's, and his little princesses' ashes were always with him—inside a handmade pendant he had crafted himself and almost never took off his neck. The rest of their remains were buried here.
Ray knew his maternal grandparents only through his mother's stories. Amy had loved her parents deeply. The man had hired someone to ensure that all the graves of his loved ones were kept in order.
The thought that sooner or later there would be more of them filled him with gloom.
Besides these graves, he also visited Chris's grave. But most often, he came to Hina's. He still told her everything. Aside from him, her grave was visited by children from the cancer center who had beaten the disease.
After finishing playing the guitar, Ray felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Seeing an unfamiliar number, he answered, wondering who could be calling him so late.
"Hello… This is Miku. Do you remember me?"
Hearing that voice, Ray recognized it instantly. The image of this girl—who had seemed a little immature when they first met—was unforgettable to him. He still remembered the sense of peace her voice had given him. He had thought she was too proud to call him first, so he hadn't expected the call.
In truth, he didn't help people for gratitude, but because he himself had once received help. He knew that if it hadn't been for Miki, his chances of winning Lily's heart would have been far smaller. And Violet might have died.
After hearing what had happened, Ray said calmly:
"Wait for me there. I'm on my way."
Ending the call, he put away his phone, gently stroked the monument, and said quietly:
"Sorry, little one… I have to go. We'll continue our talk next time."