I had always believed the deceased should be left in peace, but something changed, prompting me to visit my parents’ graves regularly. Over time, I noticed the flowers on my mother’s grave would vanish, while those on my father’s remained. Determined to find out why, I arrived early one day and confronted a woman tossing the flowers into the trash. She claimed she was my mother’s daughter, born to another man.
Stunned, I learned that my mother had kept this secret from me. Despite the shock, I softened, realizing we were both victims of the same secret. We began to bond, and together, we honored our mother’s memory.
