She walked over to the old cabinet in the corner of the living room, the one that had always stayed locked.
The key had been lost a long time ago.
She found a screwdriver and pried the latch open.
When the doors finally swung open, there was not much inside.
There were a few dresses folded neatly, their colors faded with age.
There was a pair of white dance shoes, the toes scuffed but carefully cleaned.
And there was a thick photo album.
I stared at the pictures with wide eyes.
"Mom, is that you? You were so pretty!"
Mom took out the album and opened it.
In the photographs, she looked no older than eighteen or nineteen. She wore a bright red dance costume and spun across a shabby stage, her hair flying behind her, her smile bright enough to light up the whole room.
In those pict
