Chapter 7
The following morning, Julia sat by the window again, her pencil barely moving on the paper. She had tried to write but the words no longer came easily. The stories used to pour from her heart, but now… they were trapped behind her sorrow.
Her mother entered quietly, carrying a small wooden box.
"I found this in Grandma's old chest," she said, placing it on the table. "I thought you should have it."
Julia blinked, staring at the box with wide eyes. It was carved with gentle swirls and stars, the same pattern her grandmother used to draw in the margins of her old notebooks. Her hands trembled as she opened it.
Inside was a folded letter, a small necklace with a sun-shaped pendant, and a photo of young Julia sitting on Grandma's lap—both of them smiling.
She unfolded the letter with shaking hands.
> "My dearest Julia,
> If you are reading this, it means I am no longer beside you in person, but I will always be with you in spirit.
> You are stronger than you believe, and your words—your stories—can change lives. You once said you wanted to heal hearts. Start with your own, my angel.
> Don't forget how to smile. I'm proud of you.
> With all my love,
> Grandma."
Julia covered her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks. The ache in her chest cracked open, but something warm filled it too. Hope. Love.
She clutched the necklace and whispered, "I miss you."
But for the first time in a long time, her lips curved into a tiny, trembling smile.
A piece of her had returned.