A sharp pain stabbed through Sue’s chest.
Her legs buckled beneath her, sending her crashing to the floor.
Just then, her phone alarm rang.
It was a reminder—the countdown she had set. To leave.
Sue swallowed the lump in her throat, carefully cradled her mom’s heart, and made her way to the cemetery.
She buried it.
Kneeling before the tombstone, she gazed at her mom’s photo, eyes red and swollen.
Then, she kissed the tomb—three times.
Once upon a time, she didn’t like crowds.
Didn’t like socializing.
She shut herself away, buried in her studies.
Her life had been dull.
People always said Sue would read herself silly, that she’d turned into a total bookworm.
But her mom would proudly tell anyone who’d listen, “My daughter’s going to be a top lawyer, maybe even a judge one day!”
Sue got into the best law school, aced the bar exam, and graduated with straight A’s. Every prestigious law firm she’d only seen on TV came knocking, offering her a job.
Everyone congratulated her, flattered her. But her mom? She just quietly made her a bowl of pasta and said with a loving sigh, “My dear Sue, happy birthday. You’ve worked so hard.”