I went inside and retrieved the mahogany urn from my bag. Maya held my hand as we crossed the boardwalk through the sea breeze.
Thomas and Sarah stayed by the dunes, giving us space while quietly watching over us.
Cool sand met our shoes at the water’s edge. White foam lapped the shore and retreated into the turquoise Atlantic.
I knelt on my good knee and set my cane in the sand. Maya knelt beside me, fingers resting on her mother’s carved urn.
“We’re here, Elena,” I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion. “I brought our little girl back to the beach, just like I promised you in that quiet hospital room before you went to sleep.”
Maya looked up at the sky, her voice sweet and unwavering. “We saved our pennies in the coffee can, Mama. And a nice captain who Daddy saved in the army helped us get here today.”
“You don’t have to hurt anymore, Mama,” Maya continued, tears tracing down her sunlit cheeks. “Daddy says you can swim with the dolphins and watch over us from the clouds forever.”
