Carl, who had returned to his room alone after defeating everyone, stood there blankly for a while. It may be a familiar scene, but everything felt unfamiliar in the emptiness without his mother.
Carl walked slowly, sweeping his hand over the desk where he had been drinking tea and talking with his mother, and over the chair where she had been sitting. Then he went over to the bed and felt for his mother's place.
Carl found traces of his mother.
He rummaged through his mother's clothes in the closet, looked at her jewelry in the dresser, and opened the box where she kept the many letters he had sent her and looked inside.
"… … ."
Carl looked quietly at the letters he had sent, then took them out one by one and checked the envelopes. The envelopes, carefully opened so as not to break the wax, were full of traces of Lilly's handling. Sitting alone in this small room, she had read, re-read, and re-read the letters Carl had sent her.
