Liora's fingers trembled as she held the pages delicately but firm, like they would fly away if she even loosen her hold on them, her eyes tracing the familiar curves of her mother's handwriting. The ink had faded in places, smudged by time or perhaps by tears. She imagined her mother writing these words, unaware that they would one day reach her daughter under such circumstances.
Her breath hitched as she read the first letter, each word carving a deeper ache in her chest.
"My Liora, my little girl,
Mother is writing these letters to you as your father and I will be traveling to your grandmother's home. Not Ginny Grandma; she is your father's mother. I am talking about my mother.
I hope you will behave and not cause trouble for Ginny Grandma. Be a good child.
