In the night, a lullaby is hummed in Hindi—soft syllables that fall like petals around the child's sleeping face. The melody is old as the earth and new as the first breath; it bridges worlds. Edward listens as if learning a word for the impossible. The language wraps itself around names and memories, translating sorrow into a kind of promise: your life will be wide, your nights will be many, you will be loved in ways that outlast even time.