I Recognized a Bracelet I Once Made With My Daughter and Asked About Its Story

One winter morning, while traveling and passing time during a layover, I stepped into a busy coffee shop near a train station. The warmth of the place felt oddly distant to me, as if I were watching life continue from behind glass.

As I waited for my drink, something caught my eye—a simple, hand-braided bracelet on the barista’s wrist. It was blue and gray, tied with a slightly uneven knot. I recognized it immediately.

Hannah and I had made that bracelet together on a snowy afternoon years ago, laughing as we worked and deciding that the crooked knot made it special. Seeing it again after so long took my breath away. I gently asked where it came from, sensing hesitation in the response.

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