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If I have a memory about my mother, I vaguely remember. I was so young when my mother and father had their own strokes of life. All I can remember is her face, and that’s because of the single photo she has with me.

I was shaking when I held the tiny photo beside the magazine that Angelo had given me. The woman at the magazine looks a bit different than my mother. She’s well dressed and her hair is up to her shoulders. She’s a bit slim as well compared to mom. But seeing her laugh lines and how her eyes spark as she looks at Elijah who’s the center of attention, my senses just came strongly to me saying that this is my mother.

“She’s still alive?” I asked myself, alone in my room. “But why would Angelo give this to me?”

He said I’m lacking research. For sure he won’t give this to me if this has nothing to do with Elijah. He wants to pursue me to help him have our re