The man froze.

The name hit him like something he had buried years ago and prayed would never return.

His grip on the necklace tightened.

“That’s not possible…” he whispered.

The elegant woman at the next table lowered her hand slowly, her expression shifting from disgust to confusion. The guard stood still, no longer sure what he was supposed to do.

The man dropped into the chair across from the girl, unable to look away from her face now.

“Where is she?” he asked, his voice breaking through control.

The girl hesitated.

“She sleeps in the train station,” she said softly. “Sometimes she doesn’t wake up for a long time.”

The man’s face changed completely.

The polished, untouchable calm was gone.

In its place—fear.

Real fear.

He reached into his wallet with shaking hands and pulled out an old photograph.

A younger woman smiled in it, wearing the exact same silver heart necklace.

The man turned the photo toward the girl.

She leaned in slightly.

“That’s my mom,” she said.

The man stopped breathing.

Because in the photo—

the woman was standing beside him.