Chapter 3

I went back and checked myself into the oncology department alone.

The moment the specialist saw me, his brow furrowed deeply.

"Why are you here alone again? Didn't I tell you last time that your family needs to be informed so we can discuss the next steps of your treatment?"

"You're far too young to carry this on your own. Don't push yourself."

Remembering Mom's retreating back from earlier, I shook my head softly.

"No need. I'll make the decisions myself."

The mountain behind me was long gone. All I had left was myself.

The medical bills were an impossible mountain to climb.

I found a night shift job as a waitress at a diner near campus.

Working from dusk until past midnight, I ground myself down every single day just to scrape together cash.

Until this evening, when three familiar figures walked through the diner doors.

It was Mom, Richard, and Mia.

Panic seized me. I ducked my head and tried to bolt toward the back kitchen.

Before I could slip away, the manager shoved me right back out into the dining room.

"Go take their order! Are you deaf or just stupid?!" he barked.

Stumbling forward, I had no choice but to brace myself and walk over to their table.

"Hi, welcome. What can I get for you?"

"Claire?"

Mom stared at me in complete disbelief.

Her eyes dragged over me, taking in my drab, stained uniform from head to toe.

"What the hell are you doing here instead of going to your classes?!"

I curled my fingers into tight fists. "Working. Trying to make some money."

Her anger flared instantly, her voice rising to a sharp pitch.

"Did I not give you enough for tuition and living expenses?! Where did you blow all that money?!"

Richard took her hand, trying to calm her down.

"Don't get upset. There's no shame in a kid working a part-time job to support herself."

"No shame?! Her college advisor called me this morning! She said Claire has skipped half her classes this month!"

Mom let out a cold sneer. "If you don't want to go to school, tell me now so I can save my damn money!"

My whole body stiffened. After a beat, I answered in a quiet voice.

"That's fine."

"What did you say?"

"I said, you don't have to pay my tuition anymore."

Anyway, I didn't even know how much longer I had left to live.

Mom's expression warped with rage, blowing up right on the spot.

"Claire! Who are you playing the victim for right now?!"

Hearing the loud commotion, the manager rushed over, bowing and apologizing profusely.

"I am so sorry, folks. She's just a temporary hire, clumsy and completely brainless."

He turned and glared at me murderously.

"Get your useless ass into the kitchen and prep the dishes!"

I kept my head down, silently turning to leave.

Mom's face was dark with fury, but she didn't call after me again.

The manager took their order. Mia wrapped her arms around Mom's neck, whispering something sweet into her ear.

Only then did Mom's rigid expression begin to soften.

Whenever I wasn't around, their family of three looked so warm, so picture-perfect.

Through the narrow glass window of the kitchen, I watched them quietly, like a ghost peeking into someone else's paradise.

Mom took an extra glass, filled it with warm water, and rinsed the spicy dishes thoroughly before feeding them to Mia bite by bite.

As Mia chewed, Mom gently brushed the stray hairs away from her forehead.

It was as if she were raising a child all over again from the age of eight.

Slowly overwriting every trace of me.

A bitter sting pricked the bridge of my nose.

This was good, too.

The love I lost after turning eight—at least someone else was receiving it now.

When they were ready to settle the bill, the manager barked at me to run the register.

That familiar, excruciating stab of pain shot through my limbs again without warning.

Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. My vision blurred into darkness.

Gritting my teeth to check the receipt, my dizzy mind missed an item on the ticket.

The manager exploded instantly.

"Are you an idiot?! A whole college student and you can't even count basic change?!"

Ignoring the customers around us, he raised his hand to slap me across the face.

I shut my eyes tight, waiting for the impact. But the blow never landed.

Richard caught the man's wrist tightly and shoved him back with force.

"Back off."

Mom yanked me behind her in a flash, holding her phone up high.

"You want to hit her? I'm recording every second of this."

The manager froze. Seeing that this family clearly had money and influence, he retreated a couple of steps in defeat.

Mom dragged me toward the exit, her voice still biting cold.

"Look at you, skinny as a sick bird. Trying to play independent—do you even have what it takes?"