The apartment smalled like old wood and forgotten memories
Maya dropped her last box on the floor with a sigh , wiping sweat from her brows.
The attic cracked under her feet as she wandered barefoot, through the dust_ covered beams .sunlight filtered in through the small round window at the top, cast a warm halo over the shadow .
She needed space for her canvases . The walls of her new bedroom were already too crowded, and she refused to leave them rolled up in a corner. This attic - musty lonely but private - might do.
As she shoved aside an old stool , her foot hit something solid . Curious ,Maya crouched down and brushed away the dust. A small wooden shelf had been built into the far corner of the attic, hidden behind a stack of cracked picture frames.
There it was -- a box . Unassuming. Tucked away like it had been waiting for someone.
Maya hesitated for a moment before pulling it out . The wood was smooth and cold in her hands , its lock long broken, when she opened it, the scent of old paper walted up like perfume. Inside stacked neatly and tied with a string , were dozens of letters. She frowned gently untying the bundle.
The first letter was dated three years ago.
To the one I left behind
Its strange how silence can be so loud .
This attic used to echo with laughter __ mine,and sometimes yours, in my dreams . I dont know if you'll ever read this . Maybe no one will. But I need to write. I need to remember. I knew to pretend your still here.
__ Nina
Maya froze
Nina?
The name tagged at something faint, buried . She read the letter twice, then a third time. The words weren't dramatic. They weren't trying to impress. But they ached. Every line hummed with a quiet kind of longing that made maya's chest tighten.
She picked up the next letter. And the next . Hours passed without her noticing . Dust clung to her legs, the sun shifted behind the clouds , but maya kept reading _ falling into Nina's words like they were a poem she forgotten she once loved
And then __ on the sixth letter __ her own name appeared .
Not a coincidence . Not a dream.
Just five words.
"Sometimes I wonder if maya ever remembered me "
Her breath cought
It couldn't be.....could it?
The memory was faint . A girl she met once _ maybe at summer camp , or during a school art exhibition. Her face was blurred , but the name .... nina , that name had always stayed.
Maya stared at the letter in her hand . A long silence filled the attic .
And then eith trembling fingers, she reached for her sketchbook.