"Many years ago, I read a journal. My father always kept it locked. He told me once when I was around ten years old, that the journal held the secrets of life. I never really understood what he meant. I remember, my parents would whisper at night, they would hide themselves and me from prying eyes.
After years of failed attempts, finally, when I turned nineteen, I found an opportunity. I opened the journal and read it. I learnt why my father would keep it away, and why my parents would whisper at night. I looked into the mirror. I still looked fifteen, very young, too young to find a suitor."
Cece looked at Jane incredulously. This was definitely not the time or the mood for storytelling. She was not here to listen to her stories unless they had some link with the answers she was looking for. She straightened and asked, "I don't understand, how is your past related to any of this?"
