The snow crunched beneath Terrance Underwood's boots as he walked the familiar path through the cemetery. The January wind had left the area blanketed in a pristine white, broken only by the occasional croak of a distant crow.

The cold bit at his face, but he didn’t mind. He’d brought his usual tools—a small broom to clear the snow from the gravestone, a soft cloth to wipe it clean, and a small bouquet of flowers. This year, he’d chosen white carnations and sprigs of evergreen, tied with a simple ribbon.

Jordan’s gravestone stood under the bare branches of an old oak tree, stark against the surrounding snow. Terrance knelt and brushed off the accumulated frost, the smooth granite revealing his brother's name etched deep into its surface. For a moment, he sat still, his hand resting on the stone, letting the silence settle around him like a heavy blanket.

That’s when he noticed it… a flash of red in the corner of his vision.

He turned slowly, eyes landing on a cardinal perched on a low branch of the oak tree. Its vibrant plumage was almost startling against the backdrop of snow and winter sky. The bird didn’t flinch as his gaze met its small, beady eyes. Instead, it tilted its head, as if studying curiously.

Terrance chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You don’t see that every day,” he muttered to himself.

The cardinal hopped down from the branch, fluttering to the ground just a few feet away. It moved with an odd sense of purpose, pecking briefly at the snow before turning its head back toward him. There was something uncanny about the way it watched him, not with the skittishness of a wild animal, but with a quiet confidence that felt almost... familiar.

As the cardinal stepped closer, Terrance’s chest tightened. For a fleeting moment, he swore the air around him smelled faintly of Jordan’s favorite cologne; a warm, woodsy scent with hints of cedar and citrus. It was impossible, he knew, but the sensation was so familiar he had to catch his breath.

The bird hopped up to his knee, bold and unafraid. In its beak was a small sprig of something green, perhaps a tiny branch it had plucked from the evergreen nearby. Carefully, it dropped the sprig onto his lap, then fluttered to perch on the gravestone, chirping softly.

Terrance stared at the offering in his hand, his throat tight. It wasn’t much, a scrap of nature, but it felt like everything in that moment. He looked back at the cardinal, who seemed to puff up its feathers proudly, as though waiting for acknowledgment.

“Jordan,” he whispered, the name barely audible in the still air.

The bird tilted its head again, and for one impossible moment, Terrance felt like he wasn’t alone. He couldn’t explain it, but the cardinal’s presence carried an essence, a weight, that reminded him so strongly of his brother that tears welled in his eyes.

The cardinal didn’t linger long. With a final chirp, it spread its wings and took off, a streak of red against the snowy sky. Terrance watched it go until it disappeared into the trees, leaving him with an inexplicable sense of peace.

He turned back to the gravestone, laying the sprig of evergreen next to the flowers. “I don’t know how you did it,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “but thanks for stopping by.”

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