Margaret Hayes had always lived a quiet and simple life. She wasn’t the type of woman who made a fuss or asked for much. People in the neighborhood liked her. They often said she had a gentle heart.
She was the woman who always left food out for stray cats, baked sweet lemon tarts for community events, and kept her little garden looking beautiful. Even after her husband died, she carried on as if nothing had changed. Her small two-bedroom house sat near the edge of town, filled with old books, framed photographs, and the silence of memories.
For years, that silence didn’t trouble her. She had gotten used to it. But then, one autumn morning, something shifted. It was cold outside, and as she sat alone at the breakfast table, she looked across at the….Read Full Story Here……….
