His voice was grave. Mom had found out about me selling the house. She had refused the surgery.
"She gave up," he said softly. "She only wants to see you one last time. Hurry."
Terror, cold and sharp, pierced straight through my chest.
I dialed Olivia as I ran. Mom had loved her like a daughter. I hoped—God, I hoped—despite everything, Olivia would come to the hospital to say goodbye.
But before the call could connect, a notification appeared.
Olivia had sent me a video.
The thumbnail alone made my stomach turn.
My fingers trembled as I tapped it open.
"Hold me tight." Olivia's voice, whimpering. "Don't let go."
"Baby, you smell so good."
"Do you know who I am?"
"I know... you're Spencer!"
On the screen, Spencer's cruel smile as he kissed her bare skin. What followed—
Bile rose in my throat.
I killed the screen.
Despair crushed the last of my resolve. I couldn't call her. Not now.
I rushed to the hospital.
A hollow shell.
But I was too late.
Mom's eyes were closed.
They would never open again.
I didn't speak.
I didn't cry.
I just sat by her bedside, keeping a silent vigil for a day and a night.
Then I arranged for her cremation.