Emily studied harder than most children her age, as if she needed to prove something to someone who was no longer there. Jason was different, lighter and more cheerful, with only fragments of memory from when his world collapsed at age three.
For him, Ruth became the center of everything, and sometimes he called her Mom without realizing it. Ruth never corrected him and simply held him tighter each time it happened.
Years passed without luxury but without lack, and the house was filled with warmth, routine, and quiet effort. There were clean uniforms, doctor visits when needed, simple birthdays, and holidays full of laughter despite modest means.
When Emily entered college to study law at eighteen with top marks, Ruth cried openly in the hallway as if no one could see her. Jason, who was fourteen then, took a photo with his old phone while Emily blushed and smiled at the same time.
On the train ride home, he asked a question he had carried for years.
“Grandma, did you ever regret leaving everything for us?”
Ruth watched the passing lights before answering calmly.
“I regret not doing it sooner.”