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The Unfinished Letter
Chapter 1: The Letter
The old wooden desk creaked as I leaned forward, the faint scent of ink and aged paper filling the air. My hands trembled, gripping the letter that had just been revealed in the bottom drawer of my mother’s desk.
My dear child,
I know you had your doubts about your birth. I couldn't tell you while I was alive, so I left you this letter. Your real parents live in...
The ink was smeared at the end, as if someone had hastily stopped writing in the middle of a thought. The rest of the letter was unfinished, a jarring halt that left me drowning in confusion. My heart hammered in my chest as I read the few lines over and over.
Real parents?
The words echoed in my mind like a haunting. I had always known that something about my past didn’t fit, but I never expected to be confronted with such a revelation. My mother had always been everything to me—the only person who’d ever loved and cared for me. Her sudden passing had left a hole in my life, but now this letter… it felt like a lifeline, an invitation to uncover a truth I hadn’t even known I was searching for.
But how? The letter had given me nothing but a cliffhanger.
“Your real parents live in…”
Where?
The words hung in the air, unspoken and incomplete.
Chapter 2: Pieces of the Past
I spent days searching for any trace of a clue. My mother’s house was filled with books, trinkets, and photographs—every item a testament to the life we had shared. But there was nothing more about the identity of these mysterious parents. I sifted through the drawers, cabinets, and old boxes, hoping for a hint, but nothing came. The letter was the only clue, and it was maddeningly cryptic.
Desperation pushed me to visit the local library, hoping to...
The old wooden desk creaked as I leaned forward, the faint scent of ink and aged paper filling the air. My hands trembled, gripping the letter that had just been revealed in the bottom drawer of my mother’s desk.
My dear child,
I know you had your doubts about your birth. I couldn't tell you while I was alive, so I left you this letter. Your real parents live in...
The ink was smeared at the end, as if someone had hastily stopped writing in the middle of a thought. The rest of the letter was unfinished, a jarring halt that left me drowning in confusion. My heart hammered in my chest as I read the few lines over and over.
Real parents?
The words echoed in my mind like a haunting. I had always known that something about my past didn’t fit, but I never expected to be confronted with such a revelation. My mother had always been everything to me—the only person who’d ever loved and cared for me. Her sudden passing had left a hole in my life, but now this letter… it felt like a lifeline, an invitation to uncover a truth I hadn’t even known I was searching for.
But how? The letter had given me nothing but a cliffhanger.
“Your real parents live in…”
Where?
The words hung in the air, unspoken and incomplete.
Chapter 2: Pieces of the Past
I spent days searching for any trace of a clue. My mother’s house was filled with books, trinkets, and photographs—every item a testament to the life we had shared. But there was nothing more about the identity of these mysterious parents. I sifted through the drawers, cabinets, and old boxes, hoping for a hint, but nothing came. The letter was the only clue, and it was maddeningly cryptic.
Desperation pushed me to visit the local library, hoping to...
