Aurora’s P.O.V

I sat curled up on the bed, my knees drawn tightly to my chest, eyes locked onto the skeleton in the glass case. My heart thudded in my chest, and yet the silence of the room felt suffocating. How could this be? The bones before me, the ones I assumed to be my mother’s, stared back at me, empty and cold.

The soft floral scent of carnations hung in the air, mixing with the mustiness of the room. The photos, all of her, lined the walls, frozen moments from a time ...