Brother.
Family.
All the years I had lost came crashing back at once.
“Is she…?” I couldn’t finish.
Lily nodded, her grip tightening around the cake box. “She’s waiting.”
That was all I needed.
“I’m coming,” I said.
We went together that evening.
The house was smaller than I remembered. Or maybe life had just made me bigger, heavier with things I couldn’t undo.
When I stepped into her room, time seemed to stop.
My mother lay in bed, frail, her once-strong frame reduced to something fragile and quiet. But when she saw me—
She smiled.
That same smile I had carried in my memory for sixteen years.
“I knew you’d come,” she whispered.
I crossed the room in two steps and fell into her arms.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry.”
She held me as tightly as she could. “I forgave you a long time ago.”
We stayed like that for what felt like both a second and a lifetime.
That night, we celebrated her birthday.
A small cake. Three people. Soft laughter through tears.
And later, as the night grew still, she slipped away peacefully.
I lost my mother that night.
But I found something I didn’t even know I still had.
A sister.
Lily stood beside me at the window, her small hand finding mine.
“I was so scared you wouldn’t come,” she said.
I squeezed her hand gently.
“I almost didn’t,” I admitted.
Then I looked down at her—and this time, I didn’t hesitate.
“But I’m here now.”
She leaned into me, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.
And in that quiet moment, I made a promise—not just to her, but to myself.
I had already lost too much.
I wasn’t going to lose her too.
