People came out of their homes immediately.
Children stopped playing.
Even the animals seemed unsettled.
The cars stopped in front of my house.
My heart began to race.
Behind me, I heard the door open.
Claire stepped out, holding one of the twins, the other clinging to her dress.
I glanced at her—
And froze.
Her face had gone pale.
Not confused.
Not scared.
Recognizing.
The car doors opened.
Men in suits stepped out first, serious and silent.
Then an older man emerged from the middle car.
He stood tall, his presence commanding without effort. His hair was silver, his coat elegant, his posture unshakable.
His eyes landed on Claire.
“Claire.”
Her name sounded different in his voice.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Claire’s lips trembled.
“…Father?”
The word hit me like lightning.
Father?
The villagers gasped.
“The beggar has a father like that?”
“Who is he?”
I felt my thoughts scatter.
The man walked closer, his eyes never leaving her.
“I’ve been searching for you,” he said.
Claire shook her head slightly.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“You disappeared,” he replied. “We thought something terrible had happened.”
“I left,” she said quietly. “On purpose.”
Silence fell.
I stepped forward, instinctively.
“She’s my wife,” I said. “This is her home.”
The man turned to me.
“And you are?”
“Benjamin.”
He studied me for a moment.
Then nodded.
“I see.”
His gaze shifted to the children.
“…Your children?”
Claire nodded.
Something softened in his expression.
“They have your eyes,” he murmured.
Then he looked back at her.
“Come home,” he said gently. “You don’t need to live like this anymore.”
