Chapter 1

My son's ashes were very light. They were so light that when I carried him out of the hospital, my arms felt strangely empty.

When my father, Jacob Stone, arrived, his legs gave out. He nearly collapsed to his knees at the hospital entrance.

"Eli, where's Stellan?" he asked.

I tightened my arms around the white porcelain urn and said nothing.

He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes immediately turning red. "Where's Sharon?"

"She's busy."

"Her son is dead. What could possibly be more important than that?"

I looked toward the hospital lobby.

An interview featuring Sharon Claude was playing on the giant electronic screen. On the screen, she wore a white coat as she lowered her head to straighten Aiden Ford's collar.

The host asked, "Dr. Claude, why did you turn down a high-paying position at an overseas medical center just to stay in Southville as one child's private doctor?"

She gave a small, polite smile and said, "Because he's afraid of pain. Practicing medicine can wait, but a child can't wait."

The porcelain urn in my arms was cold to the touch.

One of the country's top cardiac surgeons had willingly given up her prestigious position for Aiden to become a private pediatrician who treated common colds and fevers. Her job was reduced to accompanying him through blood draws and ultrasounds.

How ridiculous.

It wasn't that she didn't have time. She had simply given all of it to someone else's child.

Stellan had been afraid of pain too. Every time he had his blood drawn, he bit the corner of his shirt to stop himself from crying.

The nurses praised him for being brave, and he always responded softly, "Mom said I'm a little man."

But when the pain became so intense that his whole body curled up, he still cried out for Sharon.

Dad looked at the screen and studied Sharon for a moment before focusing his gaze at the little boy in her arms.

In that instant, he seemed to age ten years as he asked, "Who's that child?"

"That is Chris Ford's son, Aiden," I replied.

"Chris?"

"Sharon's first love."

Dad opened his mouth, but no words came out for a long time.

My phone rang. It was Sharon calling me.

Dad stared at the screen and said in a shaky voice, "Answer it."

I accepted the call.

It was noisy on Sharon's end. It sounded like she was standing in a hospital corridor.

"Elliot, why did you call me so many times just now? Didn't I tell you that Aidy has his follow-up appointment today. He starts crying the moment he sees a white coat. I really couldn't get away," Sharon rambled.

I looked at the urn in my arms and said, "Sharon."

"Hm?"

"Stellan wanted to see the ocean."

There was a brief pause on the other end before Sharon replied, "Now?"

"Yeah."

"Have you lost your mind? With his condition, how could he handle a trip like that? Once I come back home when I'm not so busy, I'll arrange for an ambulance to go with him."

I closed my eyes and said tiredly, "There's no need."

"What do you mean, 'no need'?"

"There's no need for that anymore."

Sharon didn't understand the meaning behind my words.

She prattled, "Elliot, what's gotten into you today? Did Stellan throw another tantrum? Stop spoiling him. Even if he's sick, you can't constantly let him have his way."

I let out a soft laugh. "He won't throw tantrums anymore."

She fell silent for a few seconds.

Then, a man's voice came through the phone. "Shay, Aidy's test results are back. The doctor wants to see you."

Sharon immediately lowered her voice. "I've got to go. I'll call you later."

With that, the call ended.

She always said, "Just wait."

When Stellan coughed up blood for the first time, she said that. When the hospital issued his critical condition notice, she said that again. Finally, when his heart stopped beating, she still said the same thing.

But some people couldn't afford to keep waiting.

Dad reached out and gently touched the urn. The back of his hand was covered with bulging veins.

"Is Stellan cold?" he asked.

My throat felt raw, and it hurt to speak. "No. He was always afraid of the cold."

Dad lowered his head, and teardrops splashed onto the porcelain urn. "When he was little, he always snuggled into my arms. He was so tiny. How could he be gone just like that?"

I didn't answer.

The wind was blowing fiercely outside the hospital. It carried the voice from the electronic screen in broken fragments.

"…but a child can't wait." Sharon's words echoed over and over in my ears.

Holding Stellan in my arms, I walked down the steps.

Dad, who was trailing behind me, suddenly asked, "Eli, are you still going to wait for her?"

I paused for a moment before answering, "No. I'm not waiting anymore."