How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Lucy's eyes sparkled as she carefully cradled the gift she'd picked out, her smile open and genuine. She waited, expectantly, for Esmeralda to take it.

But Lucy's words, cheerful and innocent as they were, cut straight through Esmeralda like an invisible blade, sharp and cold.

Esmeralda's gaze flickered past Lucy to Fleming, standing quietly behind her. So, he didn't remember at all... Not even her birthday. It had come to this-Lucy, not Fleming, had thought to bring a gift on his behalf.

Esmeralda hesitated for a long moment, her hands unmoving.

Lucy glanced around, a little confused, a little embarrassed now that a few people had started to look their way. She leaned in, voice soft and uncertain. "You... don't like it?"

Fleming noticed Lucy's discomfort. After all, she'd put real effort into picking out a gift, and now Esmeralda was just standing there, not taking it.

He turned to Esmeralda, his tone gentle but firm. "Lucy chose it with care. Go ahead, accept it. Consider it from both of us."

He didn't want Lucy to feel awkward in front of everyone.

Elodie, nearby, caught the subtle undertone in Fleming's words. She frowned ever

so slightly; it was clear to her that Fleming's concern was mostly for Lucy.

too. Fleming hadn't even noticed how much it hurt her that he'd forgotten her birthday. But he'd spoken, and Lucy was only trying to be kind.

the gift, her voice barely above a

relieved breath, flashing Fleming a triumphant smile—her eyes saying, See? I told you it'd be fine. "I'm glad you like it," she said

nodded awkwardly, the weight of so many eyes pressing down on

if Esmeralda was oblivious; everyone could tell Lucy had stepped in where Fleming hadn't. It was painfully obvious now-Fleming didn't really care. Having that realization in public only made her feel more

her toward a table, making

quietly, glancing back

to

realize something. She turned to Fleming. "Hey, maybe

always did think of

Fleming was already sitting down. He glanced at Esmeralda, who was watching him, then said, "Esmeralda has her friends. You just have

around her water

catching on. "I'm not

reply, just poured

directly across from them, watching it all unfold, a hollow ache in her chest. She'd been scolded by Fleming before for asking about his relationship Lucy, and since then, she'd never dared to bring it

like Fleming's

flickering in her eyes. She'd always known Esmeralda acted carefree, but deep down, she was a genuinely sweet girl—a little wild, perhaps, but never overstepping her boundaries. Just a paper

confronted with Lucy's gentle kindness,