Chapter 2

"Where's my gift?" I stood at the entrance of the storage room backstage, looking at the staff member in charge of the party.

He pointed to a box in the corner and said awkwardly, "Ms. Stroud, your stuff is over there."

I walked over and opened the box. Inside lay a beautifully bound volume of letters.

I had spent half a year searching through second-hand bookstores, then worked with a professional restorer to piece together the letters my parents had exchanged when they were young.

Tucked inside the first page was a dried white camellia. It was the first flower my dad had ever given my mom.

Of course, I knew my mom's favorite flower, but I had written "lily" as my answer for that game.

After my dad passed away, my mom would break down every time she saw a white camellia. The doctor advised her to avoid anything that could trigger an emotional reaction.

For the past three years, the only flowers she kept in her study were lilies, which helped calm her and ease her insomnia.

"Why was my gift put here?" I asked.

The staff member lowered his head and said quietly, "That was Mrs. Fraser's instruction. She said the letters belonged to the late Mr. Fraser. She was worried they might upset Ms. Fraser, so she asked us to put them away instead of displaying them onstage."

I smiled, finding the whole thing ridiculous.

The expensive emerald jewelry set Megan gave my mom was displayed proudly at the center of the main table, drawing everyone's admiration.

My gift, however, had been quietly tucked away out of sight.

"Kathy." Josh's voice came from behind me.

He strode over, his brows furrowed.

"What are you doing here? All the relatives are out there, and you're hiding back here?" he asked reproachfully.

Without responding to him, I took the letters out of the box and held them in my arms.

Josh glanced at the letters and said impatiently, "Mom is already very tired. Don't bring out your gift just to compete with Megan. I understand that you're upset because she won the game, but you can't be so immature."

"What? Compete with her?" I looked at him.

"Isn't that what this is about?" Josh shot back. "You're only bringing this out to prove that you put more thought into Mom's gift than Megan. Kathy, this isn't a competition."

Suddenly, I felt too tired to argue or explain myself.

I knew the exact medicine she needed for her stomach problems. Every time she refused to take it, I was the one who stayed up past midnight coaxing her to swallow it.

I knew she listened to white noise instead of opera when she couldn't sleep, because I was the one who put together a playlist that helped her rest.

I also knew she had gone up a size. Her shoulder pain had worsened over the past six months, and I was the one who let out her dress by half an inch to make it more comfortable.

And I knew the perfume my mom had to avoid, because her doctor had warned that one of its ingredients could trigger her migraines.

However, Josh knew none of this, because my mom had deliberately kept all my efforts from everyone else. In public, she had only ever acknowledged Megan as the one who knew her best.

"You're right." I tightened my fingers around the letters and said, "This isn't a competition."

Josh thought he had finally convinced me. His expression softened slightly.

"Good. Put that thing down and come back out front with me. Mom said we'll look at your gift later, in private," he said.

In private? They made it feel like my gift was something shameful.

"No need." I walked past Josh toward the door and said, "I'm not feeling well. I'm leaving."

"Kathy Stroud!" Josh shouted after me, clearly irritated. "Can you stop throwing a tantrum?"

I didn't turn around.

When I reached the corner of the hallway, a piece of paper slipped from the letters and fell to the floor.

I bent down and picked it up. It was the memo pad my mom often used.