Gilbert's face darkened, but he remained silent. He knew deep down that I was right. He had neglected us for years, too wrapped up in his own life, in Lucy.
I could see it clearly now, the moment that had broken me completely. The final days at the hospital were vivid in my mind. Keenan, lying on the hospital bed, his little body wracked with pain, pale and fragile, yet trying so hard to be brave. The only thing that brought a faint smile to his lips during those agonizing days was watching videos of pandas. The way those black and white fur balls moved—so playful, so carefree—offered him a brief escape from the torment his body was going through.
He’d made just one wish, so simple yet so precious—to see the pandas in person. It was the last thing he asked for.
"And even then, when he needed you most," I said, my voice cracking, "you gave him hope, only to shatter it. You promised him that we’d go to the zoo and he waited all day for you, holding onto that promise until he had nothing left."
I turned away, the tears threatening to spill over, but I wouldn't let them. Not here, not now. Not in front of them.