If a piece of the puzzle is missing, it is considered incomplete work. Just like her memories, pieces are missing, and each day Emelia tries recalling them. Still, nothing was found. No matter how hard she dug, she had restraints.
"Since when I have been stuck in this room?" Emelia asked herself, lying on the bed, looking out of the window. "Has it been weeks since he last came to visit?"
Each day as she watches the sun setting and the moon rising, she started to question her own life. Why was she alive doing nothing? Emelia reached her hand upon the air, imagining reaching the skies that don't have a limit.
At least it was better to be alone in the room than having a person disturb the stillness. "That's right, it's better than having Henry being in this room."
