ELIANA.

We'd been at this for more than five hours.

Secluded within the four-cornered inventory that was home to what was left of my mother—the things my Dad had kept that belonged to her which were boxes and boxes of photos, and clothes.

And Jewelry.

My hands flicked through the dusty pile of papers as I heaved out a sigh. I only just realized how much of her things my Dad kept. It was almost everything she had, every dress she wore, down to every photo of her. I ...