UNTITLED

Epilogue

Towards my sweet child,

Adeline,

My dear, I'm sure that you are very confused upon receiving my letter right now. Especially after almost 16 years of my death but I must tell you that strange things will be happening on your birthday and they will always occur until you meet him.

Before you start wondering or asking questions, I need you to know that he will never hurt you nor will he wish to cause you any harm. All will be explained when he appears and you will know him when you see him.

I am very sorry that I left too soon, my dear, but one day, you will understand why things like these happen. You are a brave and clever girl, Adeline and I trust that you will forever have the courage to go through your destiny.

Don't ever lose hope and if you ever doubt yourself, read this letter and remember that I will always be with you. Though you cannot see me, believe that I am there, right next to you. Guidance will come to you and so will help.

Remember my words, sweet child and forever know I loved you then. I still love you now and I will still love you after.

With love,

Mom

I blinked a few times after reading the letter, quite not believing my eyes. My eyes skimmed over the words written on the paper again after a few moments of staring at the signature at the bottom.

This can't be real.

My eyes narrowed at the words and I was just about to rumple the paper up when Dad came into the kitchen, a huge smile on his face.

"Good morning, Adeline," he chirped, making me let out a smile of my own.

"Morning, Dad," I said, completely forgetting about the letter in my hands.

Without looking at me, he poured some coffee into his mug as he spoke. "Whatcha got there? Another letter from school?"

Instinctively, I frowned, remembering both the letter that school accidentally sent and the letter in my hands. "That was an accident, Dad. How many times do I have to remind you?"

He chuckled, leaning against the countertop as he turned to look at me.

I gave him another look before looking back down to the letter.

"No," I mumbled. "It's a letter from Mom."

Dad was immediately frozen in his spot, his mug only inches away from his mouth. Slowly, he lowered his hand, placing the mug on the table as he move to sit across me. One of my eyebrows shot up, questioning his sudden change of demeanour.

"Adeline," he started softly after minutes of silence. "I need to tell you the truth."

I gave him a bewildered look, confused beyond my mind.

"Your mother, she," Dad's voice faltered, as if he was reluctant to tell me. "She didn't die because of a car crash."