Chapter 413

She hesitated for a moment before tiptoeing toward the bedroom. The habit was ingrained in her bones, unshaken even after all this time apart.

The door opened without a sound. Though she knew the room was empty, Stella instinctively moved with quiet care, as if afraid to disturb something.

The bedside lamp cast a soft glow. She reached to turn it off but accidentally knocked over a photograph on the nightstand.

The unframed picture fluttered downward. Stella caught it just in time, her fingers brushing the surface—her heart skipped a beat.

"Close call..." she murmured, but her gaze lingered on the image.

It was a Polaroid. Against the backdrop of an amusement park, three children grinned with crescent-moon eyes. She and Adrian stood hand in hand in the center, their smiles brighter than sunlight.

Their happiest days.

Her fingertips traced the photo as if she could touch those irretrievable moments. If she could turn back time, she'd tell her younger self how deeply this man had loved her.

She studied the picture for a long while before reluctantly preparing to return it. As she flipped it over, an elegant cursive inscription caught her eye.

"My stars..."

Her voice trembled slightly.

So he'd never forgotten.

Stella slipped the photo into her pocket. That night, she slept soundly, dreaming of Adrian as a teenager promising to show her the stars.

Even without a future, she still had these memories to cherish.

Morning commotion startled her awake. Benjamin's frantic voice came through the door: "Mrs. Roland! The children and Mr. Roland are missing!"

She bolted upright, then threw on a coat and rushed out. "Follow me!"

On the rooftop terrace, dawn light bathed the slumbering family of five. Adrian sat in his wheelchair, their daughters nestled in his arms. Ethan, wrapped in Adrian's jacket, slept soundly on the bench.

Benjamin exhaled in relief. "You scared me half to death..."

Stella gently touched Ethan's shoulder and noticed the jacket's collar had been knotted. The small detail warmed her heart.

"Let's get the children back inside first," she said, reaching for the girls.

Just then, Adrian opened his eyes. In the morning light, he gazed at Stella with a dazed smile. "Little star..."

His voice was as tender as it had been ten years ago.

Stella froze.

"Don't wear such thin clothes," he murmured sleepily. "You'll catch cold on the bike."

The words unlocked a flood of memories—teenage Adrian waiting for her every morning on his bicycle, rain or shine.

Her eyes burned. Softly, she replied, "I know."

Adrian's expression cleared. Realizing what he'd said, his face tightened. "You heard nothing."

The morning breeze carried away his dreamlike whisper. But Stella knew some things remained etched in the heart—like the handwriting on the back of that photograph.