Missing Rose (9781101603864) by Serdar Ozkan Read Free Book Online

my mother better if I knew more about them. And you’re the only person I know who can help me with this, Senhora Alves. Please, can’t you tell me what you did in Alexandria? Or in Athens, Jerusalem, Fez, Surabaya . . .”
    Senhora Alves wouldn’t meet Diana’s eyes. She seemed sorry to have raised the subject.
    â€œI always admired how wonderfully your mother expressed herself, Diana. She put it in the most beautiful way: we listened and we were renewed.”
    Diana knew it was useless to persist. “I see. Can I ask you another question, then?”
    â€œI hope it’s not as difficult as the last one,” Senhora Alves said, smiling.
    â€œWhere is my mother, Senhora Alves? Where is she? I want to know what happened to her. And I’m sure you have a better answer to this question than I
do.”
    After a moment of silence, “Do you remember, Diana,” Senhora Alves said, “at the time when I first met your mother, you kept asking her the same question over and over again? You wanted to know where your father was. And your dear mother always gave you the same reply, ‘Your father is with God, my child.’”
    As soon as Diana heard this reply, she realized that the question she had just asked Senhora Alves was the exact same question Mary had been asking all those years. She wondered why Senhora Alves had answered her question in this way. Since Diana wasn’t sure whether or not Senhora Alves knew the truth about her father, she refrained from mentioning Mary to her.
    â€œPeople may comfort a child who has lost her mother by saying, ‘She’s with God.’ But I’m not a child, Senhora Alves, you can tell me the truth. Please. My mother doesn’t exist anymore, does she?”
    â€œWhat’s said to comfort a child isn’t always wrong, Diana. Wherever your mother was before she died, that’s where she is now. With God.”
    Diana lowered her gaze.
    Senhora Alves touched Diana gently on the shoulder. “Let me leave you to have some time alone with your mother, my dear. But remember, we always have a place for you at home.”
    Diana hugged her. “Thank you, Senhora Alves. I’ll come to visit you as soon as I can. Have a safe trip home.”

10
    W HEN S ENHORA A LVES was out of earshot, Diana sat down at the foot of the grave. She put her hands on her chest and prayed silently for a while. Even though she didn’t believe her mother could hear her, she still spoke to her.
    â€œMom, did you hear what Senhora Alves said? She said I resembled you more than any other girl resembles her mother. She’s such a sweet person. But I suppose there are some things she just doesn’t know . . .
    â€œI wanted to tell you that last night I glanced through Mary’s letters, but then I put them away again. Even though it may be too late, I did think of doing what I’d promised you. But I couldn’t, Mom. Don’t ask me why, I just couldn’t.
    â€œI wonder about one thing, though. I wonder what you
thought when you read Mary’s letters. We both thought the same thing, didn’t we? That Mary’s mentally unstable? I know you told me she was unique, but you said it so that I wouldn’t hold back from looking for her, didn’t you?
    â€œI’d really like to know what you actually meant by the word ‘unique.’ As far as I can tell, this word means ‘one and only.’ It means there’s nothing like it in the whole world. But you didn’t use it in that sense, right, Mom? You didn’t feel that Mary is more worthy to be your daughter than I am, did you?
    â€œThat couldn’t be true anyway—Mary’s insane. Didn’t you read her third letter? How she heard the rose breathing, the breeze blowing through her room, the light illuminating everywhere . . . And what about the conversation she had with the rose! If those aren’t