The address led me to the outskirts of town — a winding road lined with wildflowers and whispering trees. At the end stood a small stone cottage, aged but welcoming, with ivy climbing the walls and curtains fluttering softly through open windows.
When I unlocked the door, a familiar scent greeted me — lavender, my mother’s favorite.
The Letter
My dearest,
I know this will surprise you. Please don’t think I forgot you — I could never. You were my comfort through every ache, every sleepless night. You gave me what no one else could — love without condition.
The others have always cared about my money. You cared about me. That’s why I’ve left them what they wanted… and I’ve left you what matters.
This cottage was my refuge, my peace. It’s where I came to write, to breathe, to remember who I was before the world became loud. Now it’s yours. I hope you’ll fill it with laughter, with warmth, with life.
Before you leave, go into the garden. There’s one more gift waiting for you.
With all my love,
Mom.
I pressed the letter to my chest, tears sliding down my cheeks. For the first time since her death, I felt her presence — calm, kind, and near.
