When I was a kid, my mom had a weird habit of sleeping with the window wide open in the winter. I even teased her about it, wrapping myself in blankets and joking that she must have been part polar bear. She would just smile softly and say, “Fresh air keeps the soul alive.” I never really understood what she meant.
She passed away recently, and my heart felt like it had been split in two. As I was cleaning out her room, memories clung to every corner. I found her old journals neatly stacked in the nightstand drawer.
What happened next changed everything…
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