You came to the cemetery to lay flowers on a relative's grave, but noticed a strange girl sitting on a bench

She grew up in a family of scientists, where intellectual coldness reigned. Her only source of warmth was her grandmother, an artist who taught her to see beauty in the smell of rain, the play of light, and the sounds of music.

At 16, her grandmother suffered a severe stroke. Refusing help, she became the sole caregiver. Months of care turned into hell, a dying process. She watched as a loving, living body turned into a burden, saw its strength drain, and witnessed the arrival of that sweet, putrid smell of death, forever imprinted in her mind.