Chapter 26
It had been days since Julia posted her small story online, and every day she checked the comments like it was a lifeline. More and more people were responding — strangers sharing pieces of their hearts.
*"I lost my brother last year. Your words made me feel seen."*
*"I haven't smiled in months either. Thank you for this."*
*"You're not alone. And now, I don't feel alone either."*
Each comment hit Julia like sunlight through dark clouds. Not because they fixed her pain — but because they reminded her that even broken hearts could still beat in rhythm with others.
That night, she sat quietly at the kitchen table, watching her mom stare blankly at the television. The distance between them felt smaller somehow. So Julia did something she hadn't done in weeks.
She spoke.
"Mom… I miss her too."
Her mother blinked, startled, then looked at Julia. "I know, sweetie."
"I write about her sometimes," Julia added, her voice shaking. "It helps me feel close to her."
Her mom's eyes softened — glossy, full of things she'd never said. She reached across the table and gently held Julia's hand. "She'd be proud of you. I know I am."
A lump formed in Julia's throat, but she didn't cry. Not this time. She simply nodded.
Later that night, Julia wrote again.
*A voice never really disappears. It echoes — in our memories, in our hearts, in the words we choose to speak or write. Grief doesn't take that voice away. It teaches us how to carry it forward.*
When she looked out the window, the sky was clear.
And this time, the silence didn't feel empty.