One last message lit up the screen:
“Take care of our daughter. Don’t let her be next.”
He knelt on the floor, clutching the phone, tears spilling out. Outside, the wind whistled through the cracks in the window, and the candle flame flickered as if someone invisible were there.
Deep in his heart, he knew his wife was guiding him from beyond the grave.
At dawn, he took the jar and the phone with the messages to the police.
The investigation revealed the truth: his wife’s cousin had plotted everything out of greed for the inheritance.
On the day of the trial, he stood with his daughter at the entrance to the courthouse. The sky was blue, with white clouds floating gently, as if someone were smiling down from above.
He whispered to the wind:
“I will raise our daughter, I will walk the rest of the way for you.”
And in his heart, he heard her voice, clear and loving:
“I am still here, forever.”
