After spending three days in the hospital, Shanane left it feeling much better and in good spirits, with Aurora by her side.
The two girls walked side by side, chatting happily as they made their way home. The sun shone brightly overhead, making the day feel warm and cheerful.
"I'm so glad to be out of that stuffy hospital room," Shanane said, taking a deep breath of fresh air.
"Me too," Aurora agreed, smiling at her friend. "You looked pretty bored in there."
"Bored is an understatement," Shanane replied with a laugh. "I felt like I was going insane being stuck in that room for so long."
"Well, at least you're out now," Aurora said. "And you're looking a lot better too."
"Thanks. I guess a few days of rest really did me some good." Shanane said
The two friends continued walking, talking about everything from college to boys. It was a typical conversation between two young women, light and carefree.
After walking for a few minutes,they reached Shanane's apartment building. They walked up the steps and approached the door, which the young woman opened with a key. The two friends entered the apartment and were immediately greeted by the familiar surroundings of the cozy space.
Shanane immediately dropped her bag on the couch and stretched her arms. She looked around, smiling as if she was seeing her home for the first time in years.
"It feels so good to be home," she said, her voice light with relief.
"It's good to have you back," Aurora replied, placing her bag near the door. "But you should really take it easy. You've been through a lot."
Shanane shook her head firmly. "No way. I've rested enough these past three days. I've been lying around doing nothing, and now I feel like I've missed out on so much. I want to catch up on everything."
Aurora crossed her arms, giving her friend a playful look. "Just don't overdo it, okay? The last thing we need is you ending up back in the hospital."
Shanane grinned. "I'll be fine. I promise. Speaking of catching up, I should check the mail. Who knows what I've missed?"
"Sit down," Aurora said, stepping forward. "I'll get it for you. You just got out of the hospital; let me do something for you."
Aurora slipped on her shoes and headed out, a warm breeze wafting through the apartment as she opened the door to the mailbox outside. She rummaged through the stack of envelopes, her expression neutral as she flipped through them. But then, she froze.
She looked back toward the apartment briefly before pulling out an envelope that looked distinctly different. She then entered in the house.
What is it?" Shanane asked the moment Aurora walked in.
Aurora held up the envelope. "This. It's for you. And… I don't think it's your usual mail."
Shanane's breath hitched as she took in the sight of the envelope. The seal was unmistakable, a dark wax emblem pressed firmly into the paper. Her hand flew to her mouth.
"That seal…" she whispered. "It's from my village."
Aurora frowned, holding out the letter. "Your village? Why would they send you a letter like this? Do you think it's from your grandmother?"
Shanane's heart raced as she reached for the envelope, her hands trembling. The crest belonged to the village head, a seal only used for the most important matters.
"I don't know," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "It has to be something serious. My grandmother never writes. She calls."
Aurora sat beside her, watching her closely. "Do you want me to open it?"
Shanane shook her head firmly, gripping the envelope tightly. "No. I'll do it."
Her fingers trembled as she broke the seal, the sound of the wax cracking echoing in her ears. Slowly, she unfolded the letter inside, her eyes scanning the words. As she read the opening lines, the color drained from her face.
"Shanane?" Aurora asked gently. "What does it say?"
But Shanane didn't answer. Her hands shook as she clutched the letter, her breathing shallow. Her chest tightened as the words sunk in, each one carrying the weight of something she'd never expected to hear.
As the braided hair woman continued reading, her trembling fingers gripped the edges of the letter, each word sinking like a dagger into her heart. Her breath hitched as the truth became clearer with every passing sentence. The letter wasn't just a routine message from the village head.
It was a solemn notice of her grandmother's passing. The woman who had raised her, who had been her anchor in an unpredictable world, was gone. The details of the funeral arrangements sprawled coldly on the parchment, their formality a cruel contrast to the warmth of the life they commemorated. Instructions on how she should proceed followed, clinical and detached, but Shanane's mind barely registered them.
The room seemed to tilt around her as a wave of grief and disbelief crashed over her. Her grandmother, her last and only family, was gone. Forever. A sharp sob escaped her lips as she covered her mouth with a trembling hand, tears spilling over despite her effort to contain them. Her vision blurred, the words on the page now indistinct smudges as if her sorrow had stained the ink itself.
Aurora, seated quietly beside her, watched in growing concern. She leaned closer, her expression tender yet apprehensive, as if afraid to break the fragile moment. "Shanane?" she murmured softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"
Shanane turned to her, her tear-streaked face a portrait of heartbreak. Her lips quivered as she fought to form the words, her voice raw and laden with sorrow. "My grandmother… she's gone. She's… dead."
Aurora's eyes widened in shock, her breath catching audibly in her throat. For a moment, she was at a loss for words, but her heart ached for her friend. "Oh, Shanane… I'm so, so sorry," she said, her voice trembling as she reached out to touch Shanane's arm in a gesture of comfort.
But the braided hair woman could no longer hold herself together. The thin veneer of composure shattered, and the floodgates of her grief burst open. She buried her face in her hands, her sobs wrenching and uncontrollable. Her shoulders heaved under the weight of her anguish, the room around her fading into an oppressive silence that only her cries dared to pierce.
Aurora could do nothing but sit there, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears as she bore witness to the raw pain of her dearest friend. She wished she could say something, anything, to ease Shanane's suffering. But she knew that grief had no shortcuts, no easy way out. All she could offer was her presence, a small island of support in a sea of sorrow.
The letter fell from Shanane's hands, fluttering softly to the floor as if even it mourned the loss. The words on the page, stark and unfeeling, remained unread by Aurora, but the weight of them hung heavily in the room. Shanane's sobs filled the silence, a heartbreaking symphony of loss that echoed through the space, pressing into the walls and into Aurora's chest.
For Shanane, the world had changed irrevocably in the span of a single letter. The sun outside seemed too bright, the air too warm, as if mocking her pain. Everything felt wrong, hollow, incomplete. All she could do now was crying for her grandmother, for her broken heart, and for the lonely path that stretched ahead of her, one she would now walk alone.
Aurora hesitated for a moment before gently wrapping her arms around Shanane, pulling her into a quiet embrace. Shanane resisted at first, stiff with the shock and weight of her grief, but eventually, she melted into the comfort of her friend's arms. She clung to Aurora like a lifeline, her sobs muffled against her shoulder.
Time seemed to stand still. The world outside carried on, indifferent to the heartbreak unfolding within the room. Aurora held Shanane as tightly as she could, hoping her presence might offer even the smallest sliver of solace.
"She was everything to me," the braided hair woman whispered through her tears, her voice broken and barely audible. "My only family. She raised me. She taught me how to be strong, how to survive… and now she's gone."
Aurora's heart clenched at the anguish in Shanane's words. "I know, Shanane," she murmured, stroking her friend's hair softly. "I know how much she meant to you. She loved you so much, and you loved her. That bond doesn't just disappear. It's still with you, even now."
She shook her head, her tears falling harder. "But it's not the same. I'll never hear her voice again. I'll never see her smile or feel her hand in mine. She's… she's gone, Aurora. How can I go on without her?"
Aurora closed her eyes, her own tears spilling over. She didn't have an answer to that, not one that would truly ease Shanane's pain.
All she could do was hold her tighter, her voice soft and steady. "You don't have to figure that out right now. It's okay to feel lost. It's okay to grieve. But you're not alone, Shanane. I'm here. And I'll stay with you, for as long as you need."
The words were small, fragile, and far from enough, but Shanane nodded weakly. For the first time since she'd opened the letter, a flicker of warmth crept into the freezing cold of her grief. She didn't know how she would get through the coming days, how she would face the funeral, or return to her grandmother's empty home. But she knew, at least, that she wouldn't face it entirely alone.
Eventually, her sobs began to subside, though the sorrow remained heavy in her chest. Aurora handed her a glass of water and sat beside her in silence. Shanane took a small sip, her hands still trembling, and stared blankly ahead.
Her mind wandered to her grandmother's smile, the sound of her laughter, the way she used to hum softly while tending to the garden. Every memory felt like a blade, sharp and unrelenting. But even through the pain, she couldn't bring herself to let go of them. They were all she had left.
"I have to go back," Shanane said suddenly, her voice hoarse but resolute.
Aurora looked at her, confused. "Back? To the village?"
She nodded. "I need to see her. To say goodbye. I owe her that much."
Aurora reached out and took the braided hair woman's hand in hers. "Then we'll go together. You don't have to do this alone."
Shanane looked at Aurora in surprise, her eyes rimmed with tears. "You'll come with me?"
Aurora smiled softly, giving her hand a squeeze. "Of course. You shouldn't have to deal with this on your own. We'll travel back to the village together, as soon as you're ready."
She felt a surge of gratitude for her friend's offer, but her heart was heavy with grief. As much as she appreciated the gesture, this was something she had to do alone. These were the final moments with her beloved grandmother, and she knew deep down that saying goodbye was a deeply personal experience.
"Thank you, Aurora," She said shakily. "But…I think I should face this alone. I need to mourn and say my farewells." she whispered, her voice breaking.
Aurora nodded, understanding the pain in her friend's eyes. "I understand. It's natural to want some time alone to process all this. But remember, I'm here for you if you need me. Just give me a call, okay?"
Shanane squeezed her hand tightly. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Aurora."
As the two friends sat in silence, the enormity of the situation settled on them both. The journey back to the village would be a long and difficult one, filled with not only grief but also the weight of facing her own memories and the reality of a life without the woman who had raised her.