The father slowly walked toward his daughter.

He knelt beside her stroller.

“Sweetheart… can you see me?”

The girl hesitated.

The woman in yellow rushed forward.

“Don’t confuse her.”

The father raised one hand.

“Stay there.”

Everything went silent.

He gently removed his daughter’s sunglasses.

She blinked against the daylight.

Her eyes filled with tears.

Then she looked directly at him.

“Daddy.”

His breath caught.

“You can see me?”

“A little.”

The father’s face collapsed.

“How long?”

The girl looked toward the woman in yellow.

“I’m not supposed to tell.”

That answer hurt more than anything.

The boy stepped closer.

“She plays near the gate sometimes when that bottle runs out.”

The woman shook her head.

“He’s lying. He wants money.”

The boy’s lips trembled.

“No.”

He reached into his sack again and pulled out an old photograph.

The father took it.

His daughter was a baby in the picture.

Beside her stood another woman.

Not the woman in yellow.

On the back was a name.

The father recognized it immediately.

His missing wife.

He looked at the boy.

“Where did you get this?”

The boy’s eyes filled.

“My mother gave it to me.”

The woman in yellow whispered,

“No…”

The father stared at him.

“Who is your mother?”

The boy looked toward the little girl.

Then back at him.

“The woman you were told died after giving birth to your daughter.”