So he was celebrating Sophia's birthday! My nails dug into my palms as I stared at the happy James. On a day that was supposed to be about my mother and me, she had been taken from us because of him, and he was treating someone else as his mother! And celebrating her birthday while our own mother would never see another one!
An icy emptiness settled in my chest. I remembered how James had decided to become a doctor after Dad's sudden death. We had knelt together at Dad's grave, tears in our eyes, vowing that we'd never let Mom and me suffer from illness.
In the early days, James was always checking on Mom and me, genuinely concerned for our health. But once he joined a major hospital, the temptations and allure of fame clouded his judgment. He stopped coming home, claiming to be busy with further studies, but I found out he was just socializing.
When Sophia, his so-called "Second Mom," came along, promising to fund his clinical research, he cut all ties with us, chasing after a better life. That determined James seemed like a distant memory.
Holding Mom's urn, I sobbed uncontrollably.
