The candle wavers, its flame bending as if whispering secrets only the darkness can hear. Today is the day of truth, a day where life itself will shift. Before me, the letter laid in my hands, its edges softened with time, the ink etched in my mother's writing. The house is now empty waiting for my return, I glanced through a window and saw my father smiling as my mother spoke to him. Waiting outside patiently as I finally stepped into my thirties.

A chilly breeze came across the room, lotus mixed with jasmine —a scent I know too well— curling into air. My gaze shifted to the letter, with steady fingers, I unfolded it. A faint murmur drifted through the air as the words slowly emerged. 

You always asked me, why the five cards were missing? I never gave you an answer. Tonight, I will. —My gaze drifts to the crafted box resting before me. Small. Unremarkable. And yet, the air around it hums, charged with an unseen force. My pulse quickens. My curiosity always plays tricks on me, yet tonight it finally gives me an answer. 

The candle flickers violently, its flame stretching, twisting, as if reacting to the weight of these words. My pace quickened even more. 

A sharp inhale. My grip tightens. The space around me feels smaller now, thick with unseen things shifting in the quiet. When you have seen, when you have learned, you will know where to find me. When your journey through these cards is complete, I will be waiting. Let us share coffee then.

The words settle into my bones, lingering in the hush that follows. I press the letter to my chest, closing my eyes for just a moment. “Thank you ,Mama.” Then, slowly, I reach for the box.