Epilogue: Letters to the Wind

5 years later… 

The town was still the same. 

Same rushing cars. Same packed schools. Same race no one really wins. 

But he wasn't the same anymore. 

He had become a writer. 

Not a famous one. Not yet. 

But every week, he posted one letter — handwritten, heartfelt, always signed with the same line: 

"To the one who taught me how to fly." 

And people started reading. 

People who were lost. People who were silent. People who forgot how to dream. 

They didn't know the full story. 

But they felt the truth in every word. 

One day, he returned to the hill. 

The same one where they ran. Where she laughed. Where the wind first felt like home. 

This time, he carried something with him. 

A book. 

Simple cover. Soft title. 

"Where Silent Meets the Sky" 

Inside: every note she gave him, every word he wrote after she left, and the story of a girl who wasn't supposed to stay — but changed everything just by showing up. 

He placed one copy on the edge of the cliff. 

Let the wind take it. 

"Go," he whispered. "Find her." 

The wind howled softly. 

He smiled. 

Closed his eyes. 

And for just a second… 

He felt her hand in his again.