As I turned the corner, I heard Lindsay on the phone with her secretary. "Which gift did Santos pick out for his mother before? Yeah, wrap that up for me."
It turned out that when a person was cremated, the ashes were so small.
A little urn held all my memories of my mother.
I stared blankly at the urn in my hands. Was this really my mother, once connected to me by blood and flesh? How could it be so small and light? The doctor tried to comfort me, saying my mother had passed out completely before she died and didn't feel much pain. But it shouldn't have been like this.
I hugged the urn to my chest, and tears streamed down my face. "I'm sorry, Mom. It's my fault. I couldn't save you."
I went home and packed my things. I didn't touch anything Lindsay bought for me. I only took the beads I got for my mother when she first got sick.
It was the only thing that belonged to her.
I took the beads and went downstairs. The living room was brightly lit, and I could faintly hear the laughter of children. My heart skipped a beat, and I rushed downstairs. There I saw Nick's son jumping on the living room table. His eyes wandered to the urn. He reached out to open it.