Adam wrote that his wife, Claire, had been the nurse who held my daughter’s hand after the accident. Claire had been on duty that night, and Emma had spoken about me in her final minutes. She asked Claire to pass on one message, that she loved me and I should not stop smiling. Claire never found me, and she carried the message until she died giving birth to Grace.

Years later, Adam found Emma’s name in Claire’s old notes, along with a pendant Emma had worn. He searched for me and learned I worked at the hospital where he was being treated. He had not planned to marry me at first, only to deliver the message. Then he watched me braid Grace’s hair, and he realized I was the person he had been praying for. The proposal was both a plea and a gift.

I cried until I could not stand. Grace climbed into my lap and told me she had known the secret for weeks, and her dad made her promise to wait until the first anniversary. She said she was sorry she kept it. I told her there was nothing to forgive. The pendant held a tiny photograph of Emma on one side and Grace on the other, which Adam had added himself.

I wear it every day now. Each year on that anniversary, Grace and I visit both of their graves with yellow flowers, and we tell them stories. She calls me Mom, and I answer to it gladly. Emma’s message finally reached me, and I have not stopped smiling since.