Chapter 42 - A Letter from the Past
One afternoon, while sorting through a final box of unclaimed personal effects from the estate’s original administrative archives, our estate manager handed me a small, sealed envelope labeled in my mother’s unmistakable handwriting: To Mara.
My hands hesitated for a moment before I broke the wax seal. Inside was a single sheet of heavy parchment paper, dated just weeks before Leticia passed away.
May you like
“Mara,” the letter read in shaky, fractured strokes. “If you are reading this, it means I have finally run out of words. You built an empire out of the ashes I left behind, while I spent my whole life guarding a ruin. Thank you for showing me what true dignity looks like. I am sorry.”
I folded the paper slowly, placing it back into the envelope. The bitterness that had lingered for decades dissolved completely into the autumn air.
