The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, painting the room in soft, golden hues. Alliah stretched her arms above her head, a yawn escaping her lips, and glanced at the small stack of manuscripts on her desk. Each page represented a piece of her journey—pain, healing, love, and hope—all transformed into words that had been waiting for an audience.
Joshua, already awake, was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his tablet, browsing the illustrations he had drawn for his mother’s stories. “Mommy, look! I made new pictures for your book,” he said, holding the tablet up excitedly.
Alliah’s eyes softened as she took the device. “These are wonderful, Joshua. You’re really talented. Maybe someday you’ll be drawing for your own stories too.”
Joshua beamed, pride shining in his youn
