The day Mary Lou left, Theresa felt something die inside her. Years passed in silence, broken only by cold bank transfers and the same haunting line: “Mom, I’m doing well.” No visits. No explanations. Just distance, and a daughter who seemed to fade into a different life. One Christmas, staring at an empty chair, Theresa finally snapped. At sixty-three, with trembling hands and a heart full of fear, she bought a one-way ticket to South Kor… Continues…