This wasn’t her room anymore. The soft pick coloured walls she had chosen herself were now painted over in a stark white, and the delicate pink furniture she had grown up with was gone. In its place was a cold, modern layout, minimalistic, clinical even. It looked like a hotel room, not a space filled with memories.

For a moment, she just stood there, her gaze scanning the room, trying to process what she was seeing. Her chest tightened, and her stomach churned. This room was the only memory of her mom that remained. Her dad had redecorated the entire house, because he said they reminded him of her mother....