Margaux looked around her small flat—once filled with silence, now filled with laughter and color and the kind of warmth she’d been sewing into fabric for years. She felt Matthieu’s absence like a soft ache, but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like the end of her story.
“I accept,” she said.
Margaux had spent six years leaving kindness in secret, certain it would disappear into the world without leaving a trace. Instead, it came back to her in the form of a sewing machine, a stack of drawings, and a hallway full of children wearing proof that love doesn’t need an audience to be real.
Sometimes the good we give away finds its way home—right when we need it most.
