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When she passed away, I was 17. Life moved on quickly. I grew up, went to college, got married, and then divorced. Twenty years later, when I was 37, I returned to my childhood home. While going through some of the old things, I stumbled upon a small jar. Inside were seventeen familiar pieces of paper: her 17 postcards.
I started looking at them, one by one. I turned one over, and a strange feeling washed over me. I froze. In that moment, a massive realization hit me: those silly postcards were actually clues.
The Message in the Musings
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