Chapter 255: Forgiveness

"I thought if I let you leave, I would lose you forever."

Mother’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Sol looked at her for a moment before gently shaking his head.

"You didn’t lose me."

"But you were gone."

"Yes."

"And I couldn’t find you."

"I know."

Mother lowered her eyes.

"I kept thinking that if I’d said something different, if I’d asked you to stay instead of trying to make you stay, perhaps things would’ve turned out differently."

Sol remained quiet.

"I was afraid," she continued. "I had only just begun to understand what it meant to have a family. You were the first person who stayed with me because you wanted to. I didn’t know how to accept that someone could love me and still want to leave."

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her chair.

"I thought love meant keeping everyone close."

Sol slowly stood.

He crossed the small distance between them and knelt in front of her.

"Mother."

She looked at him.

"You don’t have to keep apologising."

"But—"

"I know you made mistakes."

He smiled.

"So did I."

Mother’s expression trembled.

"I should have told you I was leaving."

"You did."

"Not properly."

Sol glanced toward Echo.

"I told him."

Echo looked up from the letter.

"You told me you were going somewhere."

"I did."

"You didn’t tell me when you’d return."

Sol smiled sadly.

"I didn’t know."

Echo looked down again.

"That was unfair."

"Yes."

Sol didn’t make excuses.

"I should have been more honest with you."

He looked at Mother again.

"But I don’t regret leaving."

The words were gentle, but they still hurt.

Mother closed her eyes.

"I understand."

Sol reached for her hand.

"And I don’t regret coming back."

For a moment, Mother couldn’t speak.

Then she pulled him into an embrace.

Sol returned it without hesitation.

Nobody interrupted them.

Even Noah, who usually found something to say whenever the atmosphere became too serious, remained silent.

I looked toward Lena.

She was watching them with a small, thoughtful smile.

When our eyes met, she reached over and quietly squeezed my hand.

Sometimes, there wasn’t anything worth saying.

---

Echo eventually finished reading the letter.

He folded it carefully and placed it back inside the envelope.

"Can I ask you something?"

Sol sat beside him again.

"Of course."

"Did you ever regret leaving?"

Sol considered the question.

"Sometimes."

Echo looked surprised.

"Really?"

"Of course."

Sol smiled.

"There were days when I missed this place. Days when I wondered what everyone was doing. Sometimes I even thought about returning."

"Then why didn’t you?"

"Because I didn’t want to come back simply because I was lonely."

Echo looked down.

Sol continued.

"I wanted to return because I wanted to see you. Not because I needed someone to stay beside me."

He paused.

"There’s a difference."

Echo slowly nodded.

"I think I understand."

"Good."

Sol glanced at the envelope.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you regret staying?"

Echo thought for a while.

Then he shook his head.

"No."

His answer was immediate.

"I used to think staying meant waiting for everyone else to return. But that’s not what it means anymore."

He looked around the room.

"I have people here."

"People who chose to stay."

His eyes settled on me.

"And I chose to stay too."

I smiled.

"That’s good."

Echo grinned.

"Although I might leave if Noah keeps making me cut vegetables."

Noah looked up from his drink.

"You’re still talking about that?"

"Yes."

"You didn’t even help."

"I provided moral support."

"You questioned every vegetable I touched."

"That was quality control."

Lena laughed.

Sol looked between them, clearly entertained.

"So this is what I’ve missed?"

"Unfortunately," I replied.

Echo leaned back against the sofa.

"You’ll get used to it."

Sol smiled.

"I hope so."

---

Later that afternoon, I found Sol standing near the garden.

He was looking at the old tree beside the fence.

I approached him quietly.

"Enjoying the view?"

He glanced over his shoulder.

"Very much."

I stood beside him.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Then Sol looked toward the house.

"They’ve changed."

"They have."

"Mother especially."

I nodded.

"She’s trying."

"I can see that."

He smiled faintly.

"She looks happier."

"She is."

Sol looked down at his hands.

"That’s good."

I studied him for a moment.

He looked almost exactly as I remembered him from the fragments in my mind. There were differences, of course, but something about his expression remained familiar.

The quiet patience.

The way he listened before answering.

The habit of looking toward the person speaking rather than interrupting them.

I had missed that.

"Sol."

"Hm?"

"Why did you really come back?"

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small folded piece of paper.

"I received something."

He handed it to me.

I unfolded it.

There were only a few words.

The room is occupied again.

My eyes narrowed.

"Who sent this?"

"I don’t know."

"When?"

"Three days ago."

I looked up.

"And that made you return?"

Sol nodded.

"I wanted to know who had returned."

"Echo?"

"At first, I thought so."

He glanced toward the house.

"Then I learned you had remembered my name."

I stared at him.

"How?"

"Someone told me."

"Who?"

Sol shook his head.

"I never saw their face."

I looked at the paper again.

The handwriting was unfamiliar.

"Do you think it’s connected to the person who came looking for you?"

"Possibly."

"Did you meet them?"

"Once."

His expression became more serious.

"They told me that the family would eventually remember everyone."

"And?"

"They asked me whether I intended to return when that happened."

"What did you say?"

Sol looked toward the house.

"I said I didn’t know."

He smiled faintly.

"Now I do."

I folded the paper and handed it back.

"Are you staying?"

Sol looked at me.

"For a while."

I nodded.

"That’s fine."

He seemed to study my expression.

"You’re not going to ask me to stay permanently?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don’t want you to feel like you owe us anything."

Sol smiled.

"You’re different."

"I’ve been told."

He laughed quietly.

Then his expression softened.

"Thank you, Aeris."

I looked toward the garden.

"You’re welcome."

---

That evening, Father returned home.

He stopped in the hallway the moment he saw Sol sitting in the living room.

For several seconds, neither moved.

Then Father slowly approached.

"Sol."

Sol stood.

"Father."

They looked at each other.

There was no surprise in Father’s expression.

Only recognition.

"You’ve been away for a long time."

"I have."

Father nodded.

"Good to see you again."

Sol smiled.

"Good to see you too."

They shook hands.

It was a simple gesture, but I noticed Sol’s expression afterward.

He looked relieved.

Perhaps he had expected a lecture.

Or disappointment.

Instead, Father simply accepted his return.

The two eventually sat together while the rest of us prepared dinner.

I watched them from the kitchen doorway.

Father asked about Sol’s travels.

Sol spoke about places he’d visited, people he’d met, and the small jobs he’d taken along the way.

Nothing extraordinary.

No great revelations.

Just an ordinary life.

It made me happy to hear.

For so long, everyone in this family had been defined by what they were, what they remembered, or what they had once done.

Sol had finally lived as someone who didn’t need any of those things to explain himself.

---

After dinner, Sol returned to the garden.

Echo followed him.

I watched them through the window as they sat beneath the old tree.

They were talking quietly.

Every now and then, Echo laughed.

Sol listened.

Eventually, Echo handed him something.

The old photograph.

The one showing the three boys.

Sol looked at it for a long time.

Then he smiled.

"I remember this day."

Echo leaned closer.

"What happened?"

"You fell asleep while waiting for Adrian."

Echo frowned.

"I did?"

"Yes."

"You were supposed to wake me up."

"I tried."

Sol smiled.

"You were very difficult to wake."

Echo laughed.

"That’s embarrassing."

"It was rather funny."

I smiled to myself.

Then my phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

You let him return without asking him to stay.

I stared at the message.

Another appeared.

Good.

I frowned.

Who are you?

No reply came.

Instead, a final message appeared.

Now ask him what he brought back.

I slowly lowered my phone.

Across the garden, Sol was still talking with Echo.

He hadn’t noticed anything.

But something about that message bothered me.

I looked toward the front door.

Then at the old photograph in Echo’s hands.

Sol had returned with a letter.

He had also brought a message from someone who knew about the room.

And apparently...

He had brought something else.

Something he hadn’t mentioned.

I slipped my phone into my pocket.

I wouldn’t question him tonight.

He had only just come home.

There would be time to talk tomorrow.

For now, I was content to let him sit beneath that tree with his brother.

And this time, nobody was going to ask him to stay.

Not unless he wanted to.