On the night of her birthday, she was eagerly looking forward to her dad coming to the hospital to celebrate with her. But in her excitement, she accidentally cut her arm on the corner of the cake box, and the bleeding wouldn't stop. She was rushed into the emergency room.
To prevent her from bumping into things, I meticulously covered every corner of the tables, chairs, bed, and walls.
Despite all the precautions, I still overlooked the cake box that Tom had sent.
The doctor shook his head and said her blood clotting was extremely abnormal; they did their best.
In her final moments, she struggled to ask, "Mom, has Dad arrived?"
I hate Tom.
This knitted silver chrysanthemum was my daughter's keepsake. I would never give it to his first love, let alone use it as a toy for a dog. He was simply dreaming!
Tom was infuriated by my attitude and rushed over to snatch the knitted silver chrysanthemum from my arms.
"Amber, don't push your luck!"
But I hadn't rested well in days, and I couldn't match his strength.
I saw the knitted silver chrysanthemum slipping out of my hands.
I bit down hard on the back of his hand.
"Are you crazy? Is it worth it for a mere object?"