When my mother passed away in 2018, I felt like my world had been folded in half. I stopped painting, stopped writing, stopped everything that reminded me of the life we had before….

She hesitated, then said softly, “Because that’s where she still is. The part of her that never left you.”

I froze, confused, but somehow… calm. Nora stepped back, tears in her eyes.

“She’s not gone,” she said. “I kept what you couldn’t — the things that still remember her. I thought you’d hate me if you found out.”

I didn’t know what to say. The house felt warm suddenly, like sunlight had slipped through every crack.

I didn’t open the box. I didn’t need to.

For the first time since my mother’s death, I didn’t feel alone anymore.