Years passed.
And one day, Gleam brought Lucky a letter. The parchment was old. The wax seal was cracked.
It was written in her mother's hand.
A letter never sent.
"My dear Lucky,
If you are reading this, it means I'm gone. But know this—your light was always too big to stay small.
Do not fear the shadows. They are where light is born.
Love boldly. Walk gently. And never stop growing."
Lucky pressed the letter to her heart.
Then to the soil.
And from that spot, a white flower bloomed.