"Astia? Where are you?"  

A warm and affectionate voice, familiar and soothing, broke the silence and brought Astia back to reality. Her pale face, as if dusted with white chalk, turned toward the source of the voice.  

"Mother..."  

Her mother’s brown hair cascaded down to her waist, swaying gently in the air, and a radiant, loving smile adorned her lips. Tears welled up in Astia’s eyes, blurring her vision.  

Was this a dream? She had no answer for her question.  

Memories of happier times surged through her mind like an unstoppable current—days when her mother, with glowing red eyes and open arms, smiled kindly at her. But those sweet days were gone forever. How could they ever return?  

Her mother’s voice, soft and warm, pulled her back to the present.  

"Astia..."  

That voice felt like a flame melting the icy emptiness in her soul. Her mother, Monica, gazed at her with a kind smile.  

"Where were you? I was worried about you. Look how dirty your face has gotten!"  

Using the long white apron draped over her dress, Monica wiped the mud from Astia's face. Astia’s eyes remained fixed on her mother’s face, as though she wanted to imprint every feature into her memory. Suddenly, with a light but firm pat on her shoulder, Monica snapped her out of her reverie. Her warm and joyful laughter washed away Astia’s worries, like sunlight chasing away shadows.  

Astia, her voice trembling with emotion, said:  

"Mom, I did something terrible."  

Monica smiled softly, her expression calming.  

"What are you talking about? How could a child do something terrible? That’s enough, little lady. Let’s go home."  

Before she could stop herself, Astia rushed toward Monica and buried herself in her mother’s embrace.  

Monica’s eyes widened in surprise, and she said:  

"I didn’t think being away from me for just an hour would make you act like this! You’ve never behaved this way before."  

Her mother’s gentle hands held her tightly, enveloping her in a shelter of love. Monica stood up, cradling Astia in her arms, and started walking toward home.  

During their walk, Astia recounted the nightmare that had been haunting her. Monica listened patiently, her smile never fading. In those precious moments, Astia felt her fears and worries dissolve, as if melted by the warmth of her mother’s embrace, leaving behind only peace and a deep sense of security.