On my eighteenth birthday, my life changed—not from some big moment, but because of a package. It was from Laurie, a woman I barely knew. She was my mother who left me and my dad when I was just a baby, chasing dreams that didn’t include us.
Growing up, it was just Dad and me, struggling but loving each other. Then suddenly, Laurie came back, asking for forgiveness and a chance to be a family again. Dad rejected her, and so did I—too much pain and confusion.
Laurie kept reaching out, but we shut her out. Then one day, Dad told me she had passed away and said it was time to open the package she left behind. Inside was a novel and letters—her story and apology. She explained how her wealthy family forced her away, marrying her off to someone else, and how she tried to build a life as a writer.
The book became a bestseller, giving me financial security and, more importantly, a window into the mother I never knew. Laurie’s final gift helped me find understanding and forgiveness. Though she was gone, her words bridged the years between us.
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