LUCIA

Chapter 92 I love you

Lucia sank into her bedroom sofa and calmly retraced her childhood memories. Her heart warmed up at the thought of her mother. Before, when she thought of her mother, she would be sad, but now, she was only left with happy memories. This was thanks to the fact that Lucia was currently happy in her life.

Her mother usually placed the pendant deep in her drawer and from time to time, she brought it out to look at it. Sometimes, she was so entranced by it that she didn't even notice Lucia coming to her side. Lucia thought her mother really cherished the pendant.

'Mother must have missed her family and thought about them when she looked at the pendant. And at the same time, she must have been sad because she couldn't return home due her circumstances.'

Her mother would have likely returned to her hometown if she had not gotten pregnant. But her mother was never once pessimistic about her life nor did she ever blame Lucia.

Her mother always had to work for their well-being. She usually worked at the local grocery store and if she had time, she tended to a small vegetable garden to cover for their food expenses. Regardless of everything, her mother was always smiling. She often hugged Lucia and carried her in her soft bosom.

Her mother always expressed her love affectionately, calling her 'my beloved daughter' and telling her 'I am happy because I have you'. When Lucia lost her mother, the despair she felt was as if the sky had collapsed but she was able to withstand the hard times by remembering her mother's love.

'I thought Mother had to pawn off the pendant because she desperately needed money when I got hurt.'

However, her mother had never left the pendant at the pawnshop. If the owner of the pawn shop was correct, Lucia's memory was wrong.

'Let's say my childhood memory is wrong. The reason I was able to meet my uncle later on was because of the pendant. Then how did the pendant get to the auction house? Was it stolen?'

The pendant held an important meaning to Lucia. It was the thing that helped her find her roots.

'I think I was eight years old when it happened.'

Lucia recalled the accident that occurred when she was young. She was seriously injured in that incident.

There was a large tree at the entrance of the neighborhood and the young, tom-boyish Lucia made a bet with the neighborhood children to climb up the tree. She didn't know what fear was and climbed all the way to the top before looking down triumphantly. But there was a bird nesting at the top of the tree. The mother bird felt threatened and attacked Lucia, causing her to flop around in surprise and crash.

'The place that got hurt that day was...'

Lucia's eyes quivered slightly when she checked under her right knee. There was no scar. The area where the injury was supposed to be was very smooth. The wound was too big to claim it had completely healed and disappeared as she grew older. But no matter how carefully she looked, she couldn't find a single trace.

'Did it never exist? Or, did it disappear?'

Lucia had never taken a very close look at the scar on her leg. She would have continued ignoring it if not for the pendant causing her to her think back to the accident that happened when she was a child.

'Is the memory of myself getting hurt wrong too? No. There's no way I could misremember such a huge accident in such vivid detail.'

She kept thinking and thinking until her head hurt. She took medicine for it, lay on the bed and fell asleep.

As Lucia slept, she dreamt about her childhood. The innocent times where she only thought about what she was going to play tomorrow passed by quickly. Soon, she was crying her heart out beside her mother's cold body. The people in the neighborhood patted her back in an attempt to console her. They were saddened by her mother passing away and leaving a young child like her alone in the world. An auntie who was a close friend of her mother's wiped away Lucia's tears. As Lucia wept, overwhelmed with sorrow, she squeezed her mother's pendant tightly as if it were her mother itself.