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Scott's POV

Across the street from the hospital, the city's top high school was in the middle of a huge graduation celebration, with music blaring and cheers filling the air.

The star of the celebration was my mother's godson, Winston Zeller. He had earned the highest SAT score in the state that year.

My mother, Yolanda Quinn, was a shareholder in the school and Winston's godmother. She proudly took the stage to present him with his award and scholarship as everyone looked on enviously.

The celebration was theirs. Just two blocks away, the hospital room was dead silent.

My father, Paul Carson, died with regrets. He wasn't able to find peace even at the very end.

Several members of the medical staff offered me their condolences. "We did everything we could. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Then, they handed me a form confirming Dad's death. "Would your mother be able to come sign this?"

I took the paper and signed my name under "next of kin".

"She can't. She's at the celebration across the street," I said.

The doctor was about to say something, but the nurse, Cassie Lynch, quickly gave him a warning look. She knew firsthand how cold and dismissive Yolanda could be.

That morning, Dad's condition had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Cassie stayed by his bedside with me the whole time.

Knowing his time was running out, Dad finally said what he had been keeping inside for so long. "Scott, I want… to see your mom one last time."

I couldn't bear to let him die with that regret, so I forced myself to call Yolanda.

But she said, "What? Is seeing me going to bring him back to life? Why is he still hanging on? If he's going to die, then let him die already! Don't waste my time."

Cassie couldn't just stand by. She took the phone and made one last attempt. "Ma'am, Paul's condition has gotten much worse. His doctor has declared him critical. We need you to—"

Yolanda cut her off, "You just want money, don't you? The Carsons are rotten to the core. Paul's a hopeless loser, and Scott is a good-for-nothing punk. How dare you even call me?"

Then, she hung up.

When I called her again, she had already blocked my number.

"Forget it. It doesn't matter if I ever see her again," Dad whispered. "Scott, don't hate your mother."

Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, and Dad was gone.

I gently closed his eyes and said, "Dad, but I can't stop hating her."

…

Dad had once been a doctor.

During a school health outreach event, the hospital sent him to give physicals to elementary school students.

While she was at the school, Yolanda overheard one of Dad's coworkers taking a jab at him. "Your dad owns a big company, and you chose to be a doctor?"