In a softly lit room, I sat on a chair, my legs dangling off it, my mother standing behind me, gently combing through my long hair. The rhythmic sound of the brush gliding through strands filled the silence.
"Sweetheart," my mother began, her voice calm yet tinged with sadness, "I need to tell you something important. Your future is going to be incredible, but it won’t always be easy."
I looked at my reflection, curious but trusting. "What do you mean?"
My mother paused, gathering her thoughts. "You’ll face challenges, times when you feel alone. And I’m afraid I won’t always be there to help you through it."
My brow furrowed, the weight of my mother’s words sinking in. "But… I don’t want you to go."
"I know, my love," my mother replied, her voice thick with emotion. "And I’m so so
