A Hidden DiscoveryUnderneath the bed, I found a dusty cardboard box, taped shut and seemingly forgotten. My hands trembled as I lifted it, dust motes swirling like tiny spirits in the dim room. The box was heavier than I expected. Heart pounding, I placed it on the floor and carefully peeled away the tape. Inside, notebooks, journals, and scraps of paper spilled out. Each one carried my daughter’s handwriting. I picked up the first notebook—a deep blue, her favorite color—and opened it. Tears blurred my vision as I read the first entry, written almost a year before her death: “Dear...
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