Amara closed the door to her mother's room softly behind her. The noise of the house faded. The voices. The movement. The life outside. All of it stayed on the other side.
Inside, there was only stillness. She sat slowly on the edge of the bed, her fingers unfolding the letter her mother had left behind. The paper felt worn, like it had carried its own weight for years… waiting for this exact moment.
Her eyes moved across the words again. Carefully. Slowly. As if reading them once wasn't enough to fully understand. Her mother's voice echoed in her mind with every line, strong, gentle, certain. Like she had known.
as she had always known a day would come where Amara would have to stand alone… and choose herself. And now. She wasn't just choosing for herself anymore. Her hand moved to her stomach again.
