Scarlett stared at the single, glowing leaf resting in the palm of her hand. It was warm to the touch, and it seemed to hum with a faint, familiar energy, like a distant, half-remembered song.
The grief in her heart was a raw, open wound, and for a moment, she just looked at this last, beautiful piece of him, this final, heartbreaking souvenir from the man who had been her entire world. She gently closed her fingers around it, wanting to hold on to it forever.
But the leaf had other plans.
As her fingers closed, the leaf dissolved. It didn't crumble or burn; it simply turned into a soft, warm light that flowed through her hand. It wasn't painful. It was comforting, a final, gentle touch. The light faded, and in its place, nestled in the center of her palm, was a single object.
It was a seed.
