Waffles chased her.

Other children followed, laughing, fearless for one perfect moment.

Maya stopped at the top of the hill and waved.

“Dad! Come on!”

I looked at the center behind me—at the place born from greed, pain, secrets, and one little girl who had refused to stop calling for me.

Then I ran after her.

Because that was the promise.

Not revenge. Not power. Not blood.

When my daughter called, I came.

And this time, I brought morning with me.