Divided

Epilogue

Third POV

Knock. Knock.
The sound echoes through the small room. "Come in," a soft voice calls from within.
A little girl looks up from her drawing, her eyes sparkling with innocent excitement. She sets down her paintbrush, the tip still wet with colors, and turns her head toward the door.

A man steps into the room, his broad frame filling the doorway. His eyes soften as he kneels down to meet her at eye level. The girl's face lights up, and without a second thought, she jumps into his arms, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck with the strength only a child can muster.

"A'pa!" (dad) she exclaims, her voice full of joy and love, a wide smile stretching across her face.
Her father inhales deeply, as if taking in the moment, then hugs her back with the same fervor, holding her as if she were the only thing that mattered in the world.

"Look!" she suddenly exclaims, pulling away from him, her little feet pattering across the room. She runs to her desk where her drawing rests, carefully grabbing the paper with both hands. Then, in one swift motion, she rushes back to her father, her tiny feet barely keeping up with her excitement.

"This is for you and a' ma," (mom) she says, thrusting the picture into his hands.

He takes the drawing from her, and his heart catches in his throat. It's a simple drawing, yet it's perfect in its own way: a depiction of their small family. In the drawing, she stands between her parents, holding their hands, with a pure, innocent smile that seems to radiate love.

His fingers brush over the edges of the paper, and his gaze lingers on the drawing. For a long moment, he doesn't speak.

"Do you think she will like it?" the little girl asks, her voice full of hope, her hands clasped together in front of her.

The man swallows hard, his throat tight. He looks down at her, trying to steady the trembling in his chest. He gently places a hand on her arm, his touch warm and reassuring.

"She'll love it," he says softly, though the words are barely a whisper. A lone tear escapes from his eye, rolling down his cheek, catching the light of the room as it falls.

The little girl frowns slightly, noticing the tear. Her brow furrows with concern. "Huh? What's wrong, A'pa?" (dad) she asks, her voice laced with worry, the innocence in her eyes searching for an answer.

He lets out a small, nervous laugh, trying to cover up the raw emotion that threatens to overtake him. "Ha, ha. Nothing, sweetheart. I just think it's... very sweet of you," he says, his voice catching, his lips quivering. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, which makes her giggle and squirm in his arms.

"Are you ready to go see her?" he asks, his voice gentler now.

The little girl's face lights up with a smile that could melt anyone's heart. "Yes," she responds, her voice full of excitement and anticipation.

Her father nods, his own smile tender and faintly sad. He picks up a dark cloak from a nearby chair and gently drapes it over her small shoulders. He pulls the hood over her head, covering her hair, but not her joy.

"Let's go, Celina," he says softly, his voice full of quiet strength.

Celina nods eagerly, clutching the drawing tightly in her small hands as she takes her father's hand, her other hand holding the artwork against her chest protectively.

-Minutes later

They walk together through the woods, the trees around them stretching high into the sky like ancient sentinels. The air is thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and something faintly sweet, like spring's first bloom. The path is winding and quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the soft crunch of footsteps.

Finally, they arrive at their destination—The Family Trees.

Some creatures are already there, kneeling beside the trunks of the trees. Their palms glow a soft green, as if the very essence of their souls merging with the ancient wood. Their expressions are calm but filled with a quiet yearning, a longing for the ones they've lost, their hands pressed firmly against the trees as the connection is made.

The man and his daughter stop at a tree that feels right to them. Slowly, they sit down, the grass cool beneath them. The air is thick with the weight of memories, of love that transcends time.

Celina tugs on her father's arm, looking up at him with wide, trusting eyes. Her small hand slips into his. She leans into his side, seeking comfort in the warmth of his presence.

He smiles gently, his hand automatically reaching up to her head to rub her hair in a soothing, familiar gesture. His fingers tremble slightly, but he hides it well.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice low.

She nods, her gaze serious, her small hand trembling in his. Together, they place their palms on the trunk of the tree.

Immediately, a soft glow erupts from their palms, and the tree responds in kind, its bark glowing a brilliant green, radiating a calming light around them. Their surroundings blur, and in an instant, they are no longer in the forest.

Before them stands a figure—a woman, her face radiant and full of warmth, a smile that reaches her eyes, though there is a quiet sadness behind it.

"A' ma!" (mom) Celina cries, her voice full of joy and relief. She runs to the woman, her little legs carrying her with all the speed they can. She leaps into her mother's arms, wrapping her tiny arms around her neck.

The woman bends down, her hands gently cradling Celina as she pulls her close. The warmth between them is clear, a bond unbroken by time or space.

"I missed you," Celina whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

Her mother smiles, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, but there's no sadness here—just love.

Celina pulls away just enough to hold out the drawing she's been clutching so tightly. "I made this for you, a' ma," (mom) she says, her voice trembling with the intensity of the moment.

The woman takes the drawing, her fingers brushing over the paper as she looks down at it, her heart swelling with pride and love. She looks back at her daughter, her eyes full of silent understanding.

And as the father and daughter sitting there, hands still on the tree, a tear escapes from the man's eye. It falls silently to the grass, a symbol of grief and love that has neither beginning nor end.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. It's been an incredible journey, both to write and to share with all of you. I hope that this book has resonated with you in some way, whether it made you smile, made you upset, or made you feel a little less alone in the world. Writing this book has been a dream come true, and I'm so grateful for each one of you who joined me on this adventure.

I can't wait for what comes next, and I hope to continue sharing stories with you.

Thank you so much for reading♡♡♡

Lynx_Celestial