Lily returned home early from school with a stomach ache. Her neighbor lit a candle in the hallway, and as the faint scent of vanilla drifted through the house, Max stiffened. His ears perked. He walked deliberately to the closet and sat, his eyes locked on the door.
Curious, Lily opened it. At first, she saw only shoes, umbrellas, scarves. But then, on the top shelf, she spotted a familiar cardboard box. Her mother’s memory box. Untouched since the funeral.
The letter inside read:
My dearest Lily, if you are reading this, it means life has taken me from you. I want you to know three things. I loved you beyond measure—you made me brave. Max is not just a partner, he is family. And you, my daughter, are my legacy. Be strong. Be kind. You are already braver than you know.
Tears streamed down Lily’s face. Max rested his head on her lap, as if he had always known what the letter would say.
Carrying Her Mother’s Legacy
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