It all began with the letter

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Danny didn’t plan it—moving into the attic that fateful Sunday morning. But he needed a quiet place where he could view the world below him.

He stumbled upon it: an old wooden box. He brushed off a wave of dust with his palms, opened it, and spotted a white envelope. It was still fresh and looked new.

His grandmother’s handwriting was scribbled on it.

“To Danny, my sweet boy. Open when you feel lost.”

“Should I do this?” he whispered to himself.

He deliberated for a moment, then went ahead, carefully unfolding it. His hands were shaking, and he felt a rush of guilt flood him. If only he had seen her face one last time before she kicked the bucket.

To my sweet boy, it began.

Time flies, and memories fade, but love is eternal.
Family, and true friends are irreplaceable.
Cherish these, for in them lie true love, peace, and meaning.
Remember these words, for in your darkest times, they shall lighten your path.

Love,
Granny.

He leaned on a wall and slid to the floor, his head tilted to the ceiling, with the letter squeezed tightly in his palms.

He missed home—his sister, Grandma, and Dad. He felt a void, a deeper one than he had ever felt before. Maybe if he hadn’t stepped into the attic, he wouldn’t be feeling the guilt of abandoning his family.

“Shit!” he screamed.

“I thought I was helping myself,” he whispered within.

His phone chimed in the heat of the moment, and he dabbed his eyes with a dry handkerchief from his pocket.

“Hey, haven’t heard from you in years. Please reach out if you get this message.”

He felt a sudden tightness in his chest, almost like it was about to explode.

He stared at the message for a while, typed his reply, cleared it, then typed again.

“Not like this,” he shook his head sideways in a mix of disappointment and shame before stuffing the phone into his pocket.

He hurriedly ran downstairs, like he had forgotten to lock the entrance—but no. There was an unresolved feeling. A need to rewrite his wrongs and reconnect with the ones who loved him the most.

He got into his car and drove, wondering how the house would feel now. Maybe she would have built that garden around it as she always wanted.

He stopped right in front of her door, and before he could knock, she opened it.

“Lily?” he said, drawing closer and looking at her from head to toe.

You could see the joy in his eyes, but she crossed her hands and stood as if expecting something else.

“I know I’ve not been the best big brother. I’m sorry. I was selfish, I—”

“Daniel!!”

She jumped and hugged him tightly.

“Your beard,” she pulled back, looking at it. It was grey and bushy. His hair was rough and full, mixed with grey and black.

“Time has taken a toll on you, Danny,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders as she gazed into his teary eyes.

“This is the part where you invite me in.”

“Oh,” she chuckled. “I’m sorry. Come on in.”

He stepped in carefully, watching his every step as though the house were made of fragile gold.

He looked around and saw portraits of Lily with her husband and little girl, Amy. She was grown—a teenager now, not the little girl he had flung high into the air over ten years ago.

“She’s grown, right?” Lily chuckled again, like she knew exactly what went through his mind.

“Yeah… she has.”

“But a ‘hi’ wouldn’t have been bad,” she said softly. “All those messages I sent you. No replies.”

She took a deep breath.

“Did you even read them?”

He kept quiet, pretending to stare at the portraits.

“Danny!!” she raised her voice.

“I’m sorry, Lily,” he replied. “After Susan’s death, I couldn’t—I—”

He stuttered, then broke down in tears.

“Shhh,” she placed her fingers against his lips. “Come here.”

She gestured, and Danny leaned into her as they embraced—an embrace that lingered for far too long.

Danny hadn’t remained the same ever since he got that news. The doctor’s voice replayed in his head over and over again. He hated it but couldn’t forget that one sentence:

“Your wife, Susan… I’m sorry, but we lost her.”

And that was when he shut the universe down.

“Let’s have a drink,” Lily said, placing two cups of freshly made hot coffee on the table in front of them.

“I tried reaching out when we heard the news of her passing, but we couldn’t get you,” she paused, watching his facial expression, then continued. “I thought you might have committed suicide or something. Some people said you had traveled, some said you were dead. I didn’t know which to believe. Even the local police gave up.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

“Shhh,” she cut him off with a soft look. “What matters now is that you’re back.”

“Thank you,” he said, gazing into her blue eyes, his face slowly widening into a grin.

“I can’t wait to see Dad and apologize,” he buried his face in his palms. “Where’s Dad?”

She took a deep breath as her face fell.

“Come, let me show you something.”

They walked down the road to Dad’s house, a stone’s throw away from hers.

They finally arrived, and she pointed to a spot in front of the house.

“There… he is,” her voice cracked.

Danny’s mouth fell wide open as he slowly stepped toward the rectangular stone that read:

In loving memory of a father, a hero, a lover.

He dropped instantly to his knees and wept until he had no strength left.

“We lost him last year,” Lily added softly. “A heart attack, the doctor said.”

Danny pulled himself together, stood up, straightened the rumpled note from his pocket, and read:

“I’m sorry for the unshared moments. For the pain I caused.
Time, they say, heals—but today, it didn’t feel that way.
Time creates a void, an irreplaceable one that breaks.

It’s been over ten years, but love is indeed eternal.
And it is the only gem that can fill that void.

I love you, Dad. I always have and always will.”

He turned to Lily.

“It was the apology letter I planned on reading to him when we met today.”

Lily watched her big brother. She saw the soft, kind-hearted man she knew years ago—only this time, he was different.

He was broken.

They stared at each other as ravens cried out, breaking the silence, while neighbors stood somewhere in the distance watching their heartfelt interaction—almost like a scene from a movie.

Their faces slowly transitioned into smiles, and tears rolled down their cheeks for the umpteenth time.

It was just the two of them now, and they were ready to start again from where they had left off.

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