A middle-aged woman wept bitterly, holding a photo frame. Her aging face looked gorgeous, evidence that she was once an outstanding beauty in her youth. Dark circles marred her face.
She was sitting in the middle of what looked like a mess. An open storage box was placed before her. There were letters wrapped in jute thread and a photo logbook.
To her right was a drawing pad with all sorts of arts in it. They ranged from simple drawings, to complex ornamental decorations. He was a talented young man. She missed him so much.
Her body shook uncontrollably, as she recalled her cruel actions towards her eldest child. If only she had been more understanding then! If only she had questioned the motive of the man who exposed her son.
It was too late already. Twelve years have passed by without any sign of her son. He had completely vanished from their lives as though he never existed. Her beautiful child.
