But Beautiful

The last box was packed. Marilyn Kerr surveyed her childhood room, now stripped bare. The silence was thick, broken only by the distant hum of traffic from the street outside. She picked up the last item, a framed photo of her and her father, laughing, on her graduation day. A bittersweet ache settled in her chest.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" Her mother's voice, soft and concerned, drifted from the doorway. Marilyn nodded, carefully placing the photo into the blanketed box.
"I'm okay, mom." She walked over, wrapping her arms around her mother. "Thank you, for everything. Stay safe, and I'll call you when I get there, okay?"
"Okay, honey. Do you need help with the boxes?"
"If you don't mind."
Together, they loaded up her life, box by box, memory by memory, into the waiting moving truck. Each heavy lift was a step towards Detroit, towards Haley, towards a new beginning.