pushed the box toward her.
“He wanted you to have this.”
Clara opened it.
Inside was a necklace.
A photograph.
And one final letter.
She unfolded it.
The first line read:
Dear Clara,
If you’ve made it this far, then Mom kept her promise.
Clara laughed through her tears.
I couldn’t.
I was already crying.
The letter continued.
I don’t know what kind of woman you’ll become.
I don’t know what you’ll love.
I don’t know what you’ll fear.
I don’t know whether you’ll remember my voice.
But I hope you remember this:
Your life was never a debt you had to repay.
You don’t owe the world greatness because I died.
You don’t have to become a doctor.
You don’t have to save everyone.
You don’t have to spend your life proving that my choice was worth it.
Just live.
Clara pressed the letter to her heart.
Then came
