The villagers whispered when he passed by.
“Fatherless.”
“Motherless.”

They didn’t mean to hurt him, but the words followed him everywhere. Noah hated that name. Every time he heard it, his heart felt heavier. Still, he never stopped believing that his parents were alive somewhere.

Every single day, Noah went searching.

He searched the hills, the rivers, the forests, and even places people said were cursed. He kept count of every day he searched, carving marks into a small wooden stick he carried with him.

Day 674 changed everything.

That morning, Noah walked deeper into the forest than ever before. The trees were tall, and the air was quiet. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him.

“Noah.”

He turned around slowly and saw a man standing there. The man’s eyes looked familiar—eyes Noah had only seen in his dreams.

The man stepped closer and said,
“I’m your dad. I’m sorry for leaving you alone.”

Noah couldn’t speak. His hands trembled, and tears filled his eyes. His father explained that he had been badly injured during the accident and taken far away by strangers. He had searched for Noah for years but only recently found the truth.

“Come back tomorrow,” his father said. “Meet me here. I’ll take you home.”

The next day, Noah returned to the forest early, afraid it had all been a dream. But his father was there, waiting.

“Let’s go to the village,” his dad said.

When they walked into the village together, everyone stopped. People stared in shock. The man they thought was dead was alive. The boy they called fatherless was no longer alone.