A Box of Truths: How a Decade of Silence Finally Gave Way to Forgiveness I Never Expected

Holidays felt smaller. Family gatherings were quieter. My parents carried a tension they never spoke aloud, caught between two daughters who no longer existed in the same world.

My sister tried to reach out in the early years. Letters. Messages. Voicemails left too late at night. I ignored every one.

I told myself listening would only reopen wounds.

What I didn’t admit was that I was afraid. Afraid that if I listened, the anger holding me upright might dissolve, and I wouldn’t know how to stand without it.

Then she got sick.

By the time the news reached me, it was already serious. Still, I stayed away. I convinced myself that distance was protection. That attending her funeral would only reopen something that had finally scarred over.

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