Maria stood in the hallway, quietly studying the framed photos along the walls. There were pictures of holidays, missions, and tiny everyday moments—things she had never been there for. The realization settled into her like a weight: years had gone by without her.

Down the hall, Maya darted back and forth, holding scraps of fabric and giggling to herself. Maria stepped closer.

“What are you doing, little ghost?” Maria asked gently.

She was trying to use Shadow’s nicknames, unsure if she belonged here yet.

Before Maya could respond, Neo approached.

“Ah, Maria. You're awake already. Do you mind assisting us?” Neo asked, calm as always.

Neo had been deliberately involving her—helping with snacks, laundry, organizing toys. Maria appreciated it more than she could say.

Back on the ARK, Maria would make things for Shadow—little drawings, felt animals, tiny lopsided plushies. Shadow would treasure them like they were priceless. But now he was older. He had a husband, a daughter, responsibilities. What gift could possibly fit that?

Still unsure, Maria walked the house—shelves lined with medals from G.U.N., sentimental objects Maya had painted, blueprints Neo had scribbled on scrap paper. All of it tied together as one life—a life she had not witnessed.

“Uh… Neo?” Maria called softly.

Neo turned, tools in hand.

“This is strange to ask—I mean, I should know this already, I’m his sister—but… I don’t know what he likes anymore.”

Her voice trembled, eyes beginning to blur.

Neo set the tools down and held her face gently, steadying her.

“It’s alright, Maria,” he said. “I usually just choose something that Maya would like. Shadow… doesn’t really grow out of things. His heart doesn’t toughen the way he thinks it does.”

Maria let out a shaky laugh.

“Thank you, Neo. I can see why Shadow loves you so much.”

Neo flinched lightly—not embarrassed, but genuinely flustered—and excused himself to check on Maya.

When Maria entered Maya’s room, she found her daughter sewing small stuffed figures—one shaped like Shadow, one like Neo, and a tiny ghost-like one resembling herself. Maya tugged on Maria’s sleeve, guiding her attention upward.

Maria lifted her into her arms so she could reach a box on a high shelf. Maya grabbed magnets and hurried back to her sewing.

Maria watched, curious.

“Why magnets, sweetheart?” she asked.

Maya finished stitching the dolls and placed them together—tiny hands clicked together through the fabric.

“They stick,” Maya signed proudly.

Maria knelt down beside her, the idea sinking in warmly.

“Shadow is going to love this,” she whispered.

Neo came in, eyes shining.

“Done already?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Maya signed again.

“Good. I’ll hide them in the secret place.”

Into a small decorated box they went—safe until tomorrow.

And in that moment—watching them—Maria finally understood. Shadow didn’t need something expensive, complicated, or impressive. He needed something honest. Something that came from family.

And now she knew exactly what to make.