The Cottage That Remembered..
🌿 Nestled at the edge of a small, sleepy town, the little white cottage sat quietly, as if waiting. Its wooden porch, adorned with rocking chairs and hanging flowers, had seen countless sunsets, but none quite like the one Sarah was about to experience.
Sarah had never planned to return. After all, this house belonged to her grandmother—a woman whose love felt like a warm quilt on a cold morning. But when the letter arrived in a familiar, delicate script—her grandmother’s handwriting, despite her having passed a year ago—Sarah had no choice but to come back.
“Come home, my dear. There’s something waiting for you.”
Torn between disbelief and longing, she stepped onto the porch. The house smelled the same—lavender and lemon, just like her childhood. But as she reached for the door, a gust of wind sent a rocking chair creaking forward. The welcome mat had been disturbed, and underneath it, she found an old brass key.
A key she had never seen before.
As the key clicked into the antique lock, the door swung open on its own. And that’s when Sarah heard it—soft music playing from the gramophone that hadn’t worked in years.
Her breath caught.
How was that possible?
And then, a voice, faint but unmistakable, whispered her name.
What had her grandmother left behind? And why did it feel like this house was trying to tell her something?
