The Final Blueprint

On the walls, like ghosts, hung faded photographs. Mostly portraits of relatives whom Aurora barely remembered, or didn’t remember at all. Stern faces looking at the camera with silent reproach. Seems I have a very “cheerful” family, Aurora thought, looking at another uncle with a severe gaze.

Aurora began methodically examining the photographs, hoping to find the cherished image of her grandmother with the ring. It was the only thing connecting her to the past, the only thread she could grasp. She went through the photos one by one, as if turning the pages of an old, forgotten album. Here was her mother, young and beautiful, with a naive smile on her face. I wonder what she was dreaming of then? Did she know what awaited her? Here she was herself, a little girl with big, sad eyes, looking at the world with distrust and fear. I wonder when I forgot how to smile?

Suddenly Kenan sneezed, breaking the silence. “Sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. “I’m allergic to dust. Maybe we should wear masks?”

Aurora gave a wry smile. “I’m afraid masks won’t help here,” she said. “We need a team of exterminators.”

Kenan sighed. “Alright, let’s finish with the photos and go to the hotel. I think I’m starting to suffocate.”

She looked through dozens of photographs, but — alas! — nowhere was the one picture that could prove her right. Despair, like poisonous ivy, began to entwine her soul. She could already feel its roots digging into her heart, sapping her will to fight. Perfect. It seems my family tree has decided to play hide-and-seek with me.

“Maybe the photos are in another room? Don’t give up, amor! We’ll find them!” Kenan tried to encourage her, but his voice also sounded tired. Apparently, his dust allergy was acting up.

They searched the entire house, looking in every corner, every crevice. It seemed the photographs were deliberately hiding from them, playing some cruel game. Aurora, having lost all hope, sat down on the old sofa and buried her face in her hands. Imagine, this sofa has survived three generations of cockroaches and two world wars, and it’s still here… Just like my problems.

“I don’t know what to do… It seems I’ve hopelessly lost everything.” Her voice sounded hollow and desperate.

Kenan sat down beside her, carefully putting his arm around her, trying to warm her with his presence. He felt her despair, her pain. “Don’t you dare say that. We’ll think of something. Maybe you just forgot where you put them? Don’t be upset, Aurora, everything will be alright now. Come on, focus, remember everything you know… You’re an architect, not some random person. Remember where your grandmother kept her treasures! Surely not in a Swiss bank?” He tried to joke to lighten the mood.

And suddenly, like lightning piercing the darkness, it hit her. “Wait! Grandmother always kept her most valuable things in an old chest, in the storage room. The photos must be there! That’s it!”

They found the chest in the storage room. Heavy, covered in dust, it seemed to have been waiting for its moment for centuries. It seemed even the spiders were afraid to approach it. Kenan, grunting, helped Aurora open it.

Inside the chest lay old letters, yellowed documents, lace doilies smelling of mothballs, jewelry, and stacks of photographs, as if history itself was guarding its treasures. Aurora began to sort through them, like an archaeologist hoping to unearth something important. I wonder how much dust one has to inhale to find the truth?

And then, at one of the most unexpected moments, her gaze fell on an old leather-bound photo album. Her heart began to beat like a trapped bird in anticipation. She opened the album, turning its pages, trying not to breathe so as not to scatter the fragile memories.

And there it was! On one of the old, yellowed photographs was her grandmother, dressed in a beautiful dress, smiling elegantly at the camera. And on her finger — the very ruby ring they were looking for! Aurora took out the photograph, holding it up to the light as if it were a holy relic. Finally! At least someone in this family decided to help me!

“Here it is! Proof! Now we can prove that this ring belonged to my grandmother!” She rejoiced like a child who had found a long-awaited toy.

Kenan, beaming with joy, hugged and kissed her. “I knew you could do it, my dear! You are the best woman in the world! And the most stubborn.”

But their triumph was short-lived. Suddenly, like a harbinger of trouble, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the house. What the hell? Someone was in the house…