Sitting at the kitchen table, scissors and thread at hand, she had started the alterations. It was while working on the bodice that she had perceived something under the lining. A slight relief. Something slipped there voluntarily. She had undone the points carefully. A little secret pocket. And inside: a folded envelope, covered with a handwriting that she would have recognized with her eyes closed.
The words that make an entire life wobble
With trembling hands, she had unfolded the paper.
Rose revealed a secret kept for thirty years. She was not his biological grandmother. Her mother, Élisa, had worked at home as a home care worker in the past. A deep and sincere relationship had been forged between them. When Elisa had disappeared, Rose had not hesitated for a second: she had chosen to raise this little girl as if she were her own.
