Nancy had always lived for her son, Henry. Even after his tragic death at 17, she kept his memory alive through a cherished ritual: baking his favorite apple and cinnamon pie and placing it at his grave every year on the anniversary of his passing.
The scent of the pie always brought her back to the days when Henry would run into the kitchen, grinning and eager for a slice. Now 61, Nancy continued this tradition with the same devotion, finding quiet comfort in the familiar act. But this year, something unexpected happened—something that would change everything.