my hands still resting on the cardboard box.
My mother?
The woman who had cleaned the hallways of my school for years?
The woman I had passed hundreds of times without knowing who she really was?
Suddenly, memories began falling into place.
I remembered her standing near the auditorium during my first school performance.
I remembered the way she smiled whenever I received an award.
I remembered seeing her outside the classroom after particularly difficult exams.
She had been there.
All those years, she had been watching me grow up.
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