The next morning, the Aunt summoned Yuli to her private study. The small room, lined with ancient books, records from past generations, and war trophies, carried a solemn air. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the rug worn by time. Sitting in her high-backed chair, the Aunt waited with two steaming cups of tea. One was for her.
"Sit down, Yuli," she said in a calm voice. "This time, I don't want reports or strategies. I just want you to talk to me… as a daughter."
Yuli obeyed. She sat slowly, hands resting on her knees, breath quickened by the memories still beating in her chest.
"I want to tell you everything. What I remember. What I never said," she began. The Aunt nodded patiently.
Yuli lowered her gaze.
"My parents died… of hunger. It was slow. Painful. Day after day, they stopped eating so my sister and I could have what little they found. We didn't fully understand it at the time. We only saw their smiles… their effort."
A tear rolled down her cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away.
"The village we lived in was small. Forgotten. Everyone was poor. No one could help. When my mother fell ill, there were no medicines. When my father collapsed, he never got back up. It was just the two of us… alone."
The Aunt listened closely, her eyes filled with tenderness.
"I remember a storm," Yuli continued. "Cold. So violent it felt like the sky wanted to tear our roof away. And it did. Part of the house collapsed. I only heard a crash… and then, darkness."
She took a deep breath.
"A beam fell on me. I woke up days later, in the home of an elderly couple. They said they had found me unconscious. That my sister… wasn't there."
The Aunt narrowed her eyes.
"Wasn't there?"
"There was no body. No burial. They just said she'd died, but couldn't explain how. No clear signs. No one in the village knew anything. Only… guesses."
"And the old couple?"
"They were kind," Yuli replied. "They cared for me as best they could. But they were already old. Their children lived far away, and they didn't have the means to keep me. They handed me over to social services a few days later…"
She wrapped her arms around herself.
"Since then, no one ever mentioned my sister again. As if she had never existed. But I remember her. Her laugh. The way she scolded me for eating too fast. Her warmth, hugging me when we were cold. Her voice… singing me to sleep."
The Aunt stood from her chair and walked around the desk, placing herself in front of Yuli. She took her hands, strong and steady, like during training.
"You don't need to prove she existed. You carry her in every word. In every choice. Your sister left a mark… and that mark is your strength."
Yuli raised her eyes, gleaming through tears.
"I never stopped searching for her, even when I didn't know how. But now I know… she's not dead. She never was. My heart can feel it."
The Aunt nodded slowly.
"Then we will find her. I swear it by the name of every girl we've ever saved."
Yuli closed her eyes, and for a moment, the storm of the past dissolved in her mind, giving way to the promise of a new dawn.