JASMINE.
I sat on my bed, lost in my thoughts. The events of the previous night played over and over in my mind, each time leaving me more confused and disheartened. I tried to focus on something else, anything else, but it was impossible.
My room always felt like a cozy haven, with its soft lavender walls and the gentle sunlight that streamed in through the window. I had a wooden dresser where I kept some of my mother’s jewelry—beautiful necklaces and delicate bracelets that shimmered whenever I opened the drawer.
I would often sit and admire them, feeling a connection to a woman I barely remembered. In my wardrobe, I kept a few of her old dresses. They were elegant, with fabrics and designs that felt timeless.
I never had clear memories of my parents; they passed away when I was ve
