NovelEnglishThese letters felt like my mother's murmurs tothat had transcended tand space, givingwarmth and
strength that | had never known before.
| realized that | wasn't in this battle alone. My mother's spirit had always been by my side, guidingforward.
After | had wiped away my tears, and my vision was no longer blurry, | rummaged through the contents of the
contents of the metal box to look for more clues, and I found them.
| was surprised to find a receipt for a pledged item with clear writing on it in the box. | headed to the address
written on the receipt and found myself in an art gallery.
| didn't expect to be led to a place that was also an art gallery, and for it to still be in business after so many
years was definitely good news to me.
All of my questions might be able to be resolved today.
"I want to meet with the owner here, please. I'd like to ask if they still remember this receipt." | handed the
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtyellowed receipt to the front desk.
Her gaze lingered on the receipt for a while, looking curious yet with a hint of nostalgia. She replied softly,
"Please givea moment, I'll check."
Shortly after, a middle-aged man walked out from the inside. He wore a simple but classy button-down shirt. His
eyes held a discerning yet penetrating stare of an artist. He took over the receipt and looked at it closely. He
then had a look of realization on his face.
"This receipt is pretty dated indeed. Are you... the artist's next of kin?" He looked atand asked carefully and
respectfully.
| nodded. An unexplainable excitement arose in my heart.
"Yes, I'm her daughter. I've been looking for clues that would pointto her for all these years. | stumbled upon
this receipt and it seemed to have pointedto this place."
The art gallery owner heard what | had said and his expression softened. He gestured forto follow him into
an office deep in the art gallery.
There were all kinds of drawings hung in that office. Each one of them seemed to tell a different story.
"I was saddened by Hilda's passing all those years ago, but a few of the drawings that she sold are still here with
me."
My mother's nwas Hilda Monroe. She didn't have a very unique name.
However, since my mother had a gentle, soft-spoken voice like the late Marilyn Monroe, she was called Hilda
Marilyn Monroe as a joke.
"You knew my mother?" | asked anxiously. My heart started racing like | had discovered a dated, dusted secret.
That man smiled faintly as nostalgia filled his eyes.
"Of course. Ms, Hilda Marilyn
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm
Monroe was a frequent in my art gallery. Her art was filled with a deep emotional and soulful depth and was
often unforgettable. However, her sudden disappearance shocked all of us, and we felt like it was such a shame."
He walked to a piece of art and caressed its mantle. He continued, "This was one of Hilda's art
pieces-Town in Morning Glow. This was also the last piece she had left with me. Every t| saw this, would be
reminded of how her eyes were always filled with unspoken stories."
As | walked toward that art piece, | saw a peaceful little town on it. As the morning sun broke through the
horizon, the golden rays scattered beautifully onto the rooftops,
coating the picture with warmth and wonder. .
Kon
"However, since Hilda and | cfrom the stown, our relationship was more than just business. We grew up
together."
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