Harvey skipped school the next morning.
Instead, he rode three trains to a shopping district on the far side of the city, then took a taxi into the hills. There, tucked between old villas and glass buildings, was a warehouse filled with forgotten props from commercials, films, and wedding halls.
He found it—hidden in the back.
A snow machine. Heavy. Dusty. Beautiful.
He begged. Bargained. Paid with everything in his wallet, plus his watch.
When he returned to the hospital that evening, the sun was already dipping behind the skyline.
---
He set it up on the hospital rooftop.
The nurses didn't stop him. They'd seen Leyah. Heard her laugh. Watched her fade.
Maybe they needed this too.
That night, Harvey wheeled her up, wrapped in blankets. Her breath was shallow, but her smile grew wider with every floor they rose.
When they reached the roof, she gasped.
Twinkle lights looped along the railings. Paper lanterns swayed in the breeze. But in the center—
Snow.
Soft, white flakes fell like dreams.
Artificial. Manufactured.
But still beautiful.
---
Leyah stepped into it slowly, letting the flakes melt on her skin.
"It's cold," she whispered.
"Too much?"
"No," she breathed. "It's perfect."
She spun once, arms wide, like she had during the rain.
Then she looked at Harvey.
Tears slipped down her cheeks—but she was smiling.
"I never thought I'd get this."
"You deserve it," he said.
She opened the notebook and struck through number six.
6. Watch snow fall one more time.
—He gave me winter in the middle of July.
Then, quiet as snow, she whispered, "What's your number eleven?"
Harvey stepped forward. His hands trembled.
He pulled a small envelope from his jacket and handed it to her.
She opened it slowly. Inside was a photograph—faded and old. Two kids, smiling in front of a festival stand. A girl in a yukata. A boy with a wooden sword.
Leya's eyes widened.
"That's… us?"
He nodded. "We met once. Years ago. You helped me when I was lost. I remembered the photo after you sang that song. My mom took it."
He took a breath.
"My number eleven is… making sure you know you were loved. Even before you remembered me."
---
She didn't say anything at first.
Then she reached out and pulled him into the falling snow.
She held him.
And whispered against his shoulder—
"I remember now."