Rewriting My Heart's Fate

These letters felt like my mother's murmurs to me that had transcended time and space, giving me warmth and strength that I had never known before.

I realized that I wasn't in this battle alone. My mother's spirit had always been by my side, guiding me forward.

After I had wiped away my tears, and my vision was no longer blurry, I rummaged through the contents of the contents of the metal box to look for more clues, and I found them.

I was surprised to find a receipt for a pledged item with clear writing on it in the box. I headed to the address written on the receipt and found myself in an art gallery.

I didn't expect to be led to a place that was also an art gallery, and for it to still be in business after so many years was definitely good news to me.

All of my questions might be able to be resolved today.

"I want to meet with the owner here, please. I'd like to ask if they still remember this receipt." I handed the yellowed receipt to the front desk.

Her gaze lingered on the receipt for a while, looking curious yet with a hint of nostalgia. She replied softly, "Please give me a moment, I'll check."

simple but classy button-down shirt. His eyes held a discerning yet penetrating stare of an artist. He took over the receipt and looked at it closely. He then had a

is pretty dated indeed. Are you... the artist's next of kin?" He looked

unexplainable excitement arose in my

for all

He gestured for me to follow him

all kinds of drawings hung in that office. Each one of them seemed to tell a different

but a few

was Hilda Monroe. She didn't have a very unique

my mother had a gentle, soft-spoken voice like the late

heart started racing like I had discovered a dated, dusted

faintly as nostalgia filled his

Ms,

Her art was filled with a deep emotional and soulful depth and was often

art and caressed its mantle. He continued,