The sun was just beginning to rise, washing the old village in pale gold.
The festival drums were faint in the distance — the same festival MK had wanted to see before he passed away.
The gates of the house opened.
A woman stepped out, now in her mid-thirties, her hair longer, her face gentler but still carrying a quiet sadness.
It was her — the girl who had once held MK's diary under the tree.
Now, she was part of this family.
Inside the house, MK's mother — her hair silver now — was lighting incense in front of MK's photograph.
She whispered softly,
"Good morning, my son… see? She's here, just like always."
The woman entered, bowed her head, and joined her.
Her hands trembled as she lit her own candle.
The tears she had been holding back for months finally spilled over.
"I kept my promise all these years," she said quietly, her voice shaking.
"But today… I just miss him too much."
MK's mother placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"You are my daughter now. Cry if you must. He would understand."
In the corner of the house, MK's older brother was sitting with Sandeep.
Both were now grown men, lines of age etched into their faces.
Sandeep still wore no wedding ring.
"I never married," Sandeep said, his voice low.
"People asked me why, but… how could I? My best friend's dream was still unfinished.
I spent these twenty years making sure everyone remembered him."
MK's brother nodded slowly.
"You did what we could not. You carried his name for all of us."
Later, they all gathered under the same tree where MK's diary had once been read.
The air was still, heavy with memory.
The woman finally broke down.
"I thought I could be strong forever," she whispered, clutching the diary that was now old and worn.
"But when I read these pages again, I hear his voice. I see him smiling.
And I just… I just wish I had one more day with him."
Her tears fell onto the ground, darkening the earth beneath her knees.
She pressed the diary to her chest.
"I never married," she admitted aloud, her voice trembling.
"Because my heart has been here, with him, this whole time.
I couldn't give it to anyone else. He is my first and last love."
MK's father, who had been silent until now, spoke softly.
"Then stay with us, like you always have.
You were his dream, too.
If he could see you now, he'd smile and say, 'Thank you for not forgetting me.'"
As the night fell, they lit candles — dozens of them — all around the tree.
The glow lit up their faces, and for a brief moment, it felt like MK was there again, sitting among them, smiling softly.
Sandeep looked at the sky and smiled through his tears.
"MK… we're still here. Your story never ended. It just became a part of all of us."
The woman wiped her eyes, stood up, and faced the night.
Her voice was soft but steady:
"I promise, MK… I will keep telling your story.
As long as I live, no one will forget you."
And as if answering her, a warm breeze blew through the trees, carrying the faint smell of incense.
It felt like MK was saying goodbye — one last time.
Author note
This series is AND now
And I want to tell you something this series female character is real and her name real to
And don't forget to waiting this story goodbye guys see you in the next story