The neon sign outside read —though the first letter had flickered out years ago. Everyone in the district just called it "Origin."
Inside, Elara didn't restore paintings or repair antiques. She fixed the past itself.
She watched the younger Kael—stiff in his uniform, already half-gone to duty—walk past his daughter without a word. But now, now , the older Kael's consciousness reached out. He placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. She turned, surprised.
She turned off the coil. Another ghost—another garden—waited for tomorrow.