The hope she had carried for decades sank heavy in her chest, unresolved, but not yet extinguished. When he passed a week later, it was Miriam who held his hand in those last breaths. Elise and Daniel hadn’t made it in time. She stayed until the machines stilled, until the nurses came.
And even then, even as grief cracked through her, she still whispered into the silence: “I just wanted to understand.” The funeral came quickly, a blur of black coats, pale flowers, and words that slid past Miriam without sinking in. The pastor spoke of duty and steadiness, of a man who had provided for his family and kept his faith quiet but firm.