When the Memory Fades
The Sullivan brothers had always treated me like I was their whole world.
That changed the day I was diagnosed with an aggressive brain tumor.
The pain soon grew unbearable, and I was told I might lose my memories if I opted for surgery.
I reached out to the brothers.
I did not want to forget them, and I needed their help.
However, when the call connected, the only thing I heard was an icy, sharp voice.
"Summer, it's Yvonne's birthday today. Can you not ruin it for once?"
I blacked out from the pain. When I woke up in the hospital, there was a message from Yvonne on my phone.
"Summer, the boys gave me these lucky charms for protection."
Attached was a photo of three silver pendants, each engraved with the brothers' initials.
I knew those pendants well. I had spent seven hours in the freezing rain just to get them blessed.
That was the moment I gave up. I went abroad alone for the surgery, and with it, all my memories of the brothers faded away.
I completely forgot about them until one day, three strangers knocked on my door, begging like madmen for my forgiveness.