Acceptance

The lady before Delilah smiled before she flew in the air and appeared right before her.

"Yes, my love," she said, extending her hand to Delilah. 

Delilah, who was observing the lady, stepped back, flinching a little. 

Though her wounds weren't visible in this dream-like place, she still could feel the pain coursing through her body, and it was enough to remind her how it was the things that belonged to her mother that were inflicting that pain onto her. 

It was an instinctive reaction that she immediately regretted. 

Even if it meant she would have to go through that pain, she still wanted to feel the touch of her mother's hand on her head. 

Delilah wanted to feel that kind of caress and love from her mother because she knew, unlike her father, who had abandoned her. After all, he wanted to protect her; her mother was dead. 

"I am sorry," Delilah held the lady's hand, which felt soft like cotton.