My name is Grace, and for most of my adult life, my son Daniel was the center of everything. His father died when Daniel was still young, so it was just the two of us for years. We didn’t have a perfect life, but we had each other, and somehow that was enough. Then, when Daniel was nineteen, a rare illness changed everything. The doctors tried treatment after treatment, but eventually they had to tell us there was nothing more they could do for him. I sold nearly everything I owned trying to keep my son alive, and I would have sold the rest if it had made even the smallest difference. In the final weeks, Daniel became strangely calm. He began asking questions about what would happen after he died. I thought he was simply trying to prepare himself. I didn’t know he was preparing a future for me, too.
PART 1 — THE LAST THING HE ASKED OF ME
Daniel had never liked seeing me cry.
Even as a little boy, he would become uncomfortable whenever I was upset. He would bring me a glass of water, sit beside me, and try to make me laugh.
