Create a story about a painting that allows protagonist Kyra to travel and see her long-gone relatives. The story should be bittersweet with just a hint of uncertainty, as if visiting her dead relatives is something unnatural, thus dangerous. Leave it with a cliffhanger of her being trapped in the other dimension.
Kyra hadn't been the same after the loss of her mother. She'd been through many milestones in her life—buying a car, getting married, finding a home, having kids—but it was losing her mom that was proving to be the greatest challenge of all. Her mother had died peacefully in her sleep, but Kyra couldn't reckon with a lifetime of living to justify one iota of death. Still, she was coping; the hole in her heart was smaller every day, albeit by a little. 

Looking at the painting helped. Her great, great uncle Keith had been an exceptional artist, and at some point, he'd gathered as many family members as he could find, both near and far, to be painted. His work was immaculate, with clear, recognizable features on every person. He must have truly loved them. 

She would brew a cup of tea in the morning and spend some time with the painting before heading to work. She didn't recognize many faces, but it was comforting to know that they had passed on like her mother. That was an odd thing to appreciate, she knew, but it gave her solace, nonetheless.

One day, in a moment of strong emotion, she touched the painting. The world seemed to shimmer around her, and she found herself in another world entirely. Somehow, she remained calm, possessed with the strong inclination that she should show no emotion in this place of reverence. 

She had some inking of where she was, too. In some way, she recognized the gathering place up ahead as the place she would one day live with her family after this life. It was cast with a silver sheen; everything seemed slightly out of focus, as if the existence of the place was constantly being challenged and only maintained by conscious effort—perhaps that was exactly the cause.

Up ahead, she saw her mother, and despite the thumping of her heart and the inner voice warning her to go back, she raced toward her, calling out her name. The figure disappeared as Kyra approached, leaving her alone at the table. A sense of dread washed over her, and Kyra turned to leave the same way she had come, but the painting was nowhere to be seen.