Chapter 3
Claire's POV
"I want to go home and see my parents."
The words surprised even me as they left my mouth. We sat in Boston's airport departure lounge while Kate organized today's photos.
Maybe it was seeing those accusatory messages, maybe realizing how little time I had left. Suddenly I knew I needed to see them one last time.
"Now?" Kate looked up, surprised. "I thought we were going to Napa Valley tomorrow."
"Change of plans." I gripped my phone. "I want... I want to spend more time with them while I can."
Kate asked perceptively, "What do you mean by 'while you can'?"
"Everyone's time is limited, isn't it?" I avoided her searching gaze. "Long Island's not far—three hours by car."
Three hours later, I stood before the familiar white house on Long Island's North Shore. Autumn sunset bathed the front yard's oak tree, golden leaves dancing in the breeze—everything as beautiful as childhood memories.
The car door had barely closed when the front door opened.
"Claire!" Mom's voice carried surprise and concern as she practically ran out. "Honey, why did you come home so suddenly?"
Dad followed behind, moving more slowly than I remembered, his left hand trembling slightly.
Seeing their aged faces broke my heart into pieces.
Mom's hair was almost completely white, her forehead lined with wrinkles. Dad's back was more bent, his eyes holding fatigue I'd never seen before.
"Mom, Dad, I missed you." I opened my arms, voice choking.
Mom hugged me tightly, but when she pulled back, I saw shock in her eyes.
"My God, Claire, why are you so thin?" Her hands trembled as she touched my cheek. "Why so pale?"
"Just work stress. I'm... free now." I forced a smile. "This is my friend Kate, a travel blogger."
"Where's Kelvin?" Dad's blue eyes flickered with worry. "Why didn't he come?"
The question cut through my heart like a blade.
"He's busy with IPO stuff." My heart pounded as I lied. "I wanted to spend time with just you two."
The kitchen filled with familiar aromas—Mom's roast chicken and mashed potatoes, plus my favorite apple pie. These scents triggered countless childhood memories while making my stomach queasy.
Chemotherapy made me nauseous around many foods, but I couldn't let my parents notice.
"Sit, sit." Mom bustled around. "I made all your favorites."
The table overflowed with abundant food as three of us sat together—harmonious on the surface, but I could feel everyone forcing smiles.
We were all acting, all protecting each other—the cruelest kind of tenderness.
"Eat some chicken, you're too thin." Mom placed a large piece on my plate.
I managed a few bites.
"How is it?" Mom watched expectantly.
"Delicious." I forced a smile. "Tastes just like when I was little."
But I could see the pain in her eyes. She must have noticed I'd barely touched the food, must have sensed something was wrong.
"Claire, have you seen a doctor recently?" Dad suddenly asked. "You really don't look well."
My hand gripped the fork tightly, struggling to stay composed. "Just work stress. I'm taking vitamins."
"Good." Dad nodded, but the worry didn't leave his eyes. "Take care of yourself. We're getting old, can't always look after you anymore."
Those words stabbed my heart like a dagger. How would they feel knowing the truth—that I only had months left?
"I will, Dad." I choked out.
Late that night, after my parents slept, I quietly entered my childhood room—pink walls, graduation photos on the desk, a picture of Kelvin and me on the nightstand.
Seeing that photo sent fresh pain through my heart. We looked so young, so in love, completely unaware of fate's cruel test ahead.
I pulled several bank cards and a letter from my bag.
I needed to leave them something to help them continue living after I died.
The first card I hid deep in the closet with my childhood diary, adding a note: "Mom and Dad's treasure hunt—First clue: Find little Claire's secret."
The second went in the desk drawer with my college acceptance letter: "Second clue—Find Claire's proud moment."
The third under the mattress: "Third clue—Little Claire's secret money hiding place."
I hoped this game might bring them other emotions after discovering the truth, even briefly.
Finally, I held up my phone and started recording.
"Mom, Dad, if you're watching this video, it means I'm gone." My voice trembled, tears blurring my vision. "Sorry for hiding so much, sorry I can't be with you anymore."
"I know you'll be angry, wonder why I didn't tell you the truth. But I didn't want you seeing me in pain, didn't want your memories filled with me in a hospital bed."
"I hid some bank cards around the room—my final little game. Remember me healthy and happy, remember our beautiful times."
"I love you, always and forever."
After recording, I set it for delayed delivery. After my death, this video would automatically send to them.
The room was quiet except for autumn wind rustling the curtains. I lay in my childhood bed, breathing familiar lavender scent, feeling unprecedented peace.
This might be my last night in this room.
My phone vibrated.
"Claire, I'm giving up all rights to property division. Wishing you happiness. —Kelvin"
Reading that message felt like someone viciously tearing my heart apart.
Tears burst uncontrollably as I clutched my phone, sobbing.
How selfish I was! I'd chosen the cruelest way to push him away. But he... he was still the man who'd give me the whole world.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." I whispered repeatedly into the dark room. "Kelvin, I'm so sorry..."
