She admitted she was dead. She admitted her husband had moved on. She admitted her...

She admitted she was dead. She admitted her husband had moved on. She admitted her daughter
was growing without her. And she admitted her room was a dream, a construct, a lie preferred... to the truth of the trunk. But there waited for her,
at the end of this purgatory, a reward in the knowledge that one day,
the door would open. One day, the locks would see their keys, and, one day,
Isabel would open her mother's trunk... and claim her reward. Both of their rewards. And day after day, night after night, an ocean of time,
the moment finally came