Kersh sits cross-legged beneath a blooming jasmine bush, eyes lifted to the heavens. Each cloud that passes seems to whisper a memory, and the world feels suspended, caught between daydream and ache. Her fingers trace the edge of a well-worn photograph, the edges curled from years of love and longing. "How far is heaven, Mum?" The question is barely more than a whisper, yet it fills the quiet with the weight of hope and sorrow.

Kersh wraps her arms around her knees, feeling the world shift in the storm’s embrace. Her heart aches, grief swelling as she remembers the warmth of her mother’s smile. Tears gather, unchecked, falling like rain. The photograph slips from her grasp, landing softly beside her. "I wish I could come up and see you, even for just a little while," her murmurs, voice trembling. "Just to hear you say I will be fine."

Kersh closes her eyes, letting memories wash over her. She feels the gentle touch of her mother’s hand, hears her voice in the rustling leaves. Her laughter lingers in the breeze, a balm for the pain. Each memory is vivid, painted in light and color, a tapestry of love. "I miss you, Mum," she breathes, the longing sharp but sweet. "My heart is broken—how do I get through?"

Kersh stands, letting the wind tousle her hair. She closes her eyes and finds her there, in a space just between thought and dream. Her arms wrap around her, holding her tight, her presence both near and impossibly far. "You live in my heart, Mum," she whispers, feeling her warmth spread through him. "So I will try to be free, just as you wanted."

Kersh sits again beneath the jasmine bush, gaze turned skyward. The ache is still there, but softer, joined by a quiet strength. she traces the photograph once more, now knowing that heaven is not a distant place, but something she carries within. "Forever in my heart, my Mum, Hannah Govender," she says, voice steady and full of love. The stars seem to pulse in answer, and she smiles, feeling her presence everywhere.