The man’s umbrella slipped from his hand and hit the wet pavement.

“I never left her,” he whispered.

The girl stared at him, confused and trembling.

“My mom said you forgot us.”

His face broke.

“No. I thought she was dead.”

The city noise faded around them.

The girl reached into the pocket of her damp dress and pulled out a folded paper, soft from rain and being carried too long.

“She said to give this to you if you cried.”

The man unfolded it with shaking hands.

The first line made his knees weaken.

Nathan, if our daughter finds you, it means I couldn’t keep hiding anymore.

His hand covered his mouth.

Daughter.

The girl watched him carefully.

“My name is Lily.”

Nathan sobbed.

That was the name Amelia had once whispered in the dark, her dream name for a child they never thought they would lose.

“Where is she?” he asked.

Lily pointed down the street.

“In the shelter clinic. She coughs blood sometimes.”

Nathan stood so fast he almost slipped.

“Take me to her.”

Lily grabbed the wet bouquet from the ground.

“She said not to trust rich men.”

Nathan knelt again, tears mixing with the rain.

“Then don’t trust a rich man,” he whispered. “Trust your father.”

Lily’s lip trembled.

“My father?”

He nodded, unable to speak.

For one fragile second, she looked like she might run.

Then she stepped forward and placed her small wet hand in his.

At the shelter clinic, Amelia lay beneath a thin blanket, pale and weak.

When she saw Nathan in the doorway, her tears came before her voice.

“They told me you married someone else,” she cried.

Nathan rushed to her bedside.

“They told me you died.”

Amelia looked at Lily.

“Our daughter found you.”

Nathan held both of them, shaking with grief and relief.

Outside, the rain kept falling.

But Lily’s flowers were no longer for sale.

They were lying beside her mother’s bed, waiting for the family they had brought back together.