Raindrops still lingered on the park bench, leaving faint water stains that hadn’t yet dried. The Tokyo evening sky was overcast, as if it held back both anger and tears at once.

Evelyn sat alone on one of the benches, wrapped in a gray coat and a wool scarf framing her tired face. The wind tugged gently at her hair, and her fingers curled around a paper cup of coffee that had long gone cold.

Footsteps approached—slow, deliberate.

Evelyn didn’t look up. She knew those steps. She knew that scent. Her heartbeat quickened, but her lips stayed shut.

“Evelyn…”

That voice—soft, heavy, filled with remorse.

William stood before her, tall...