Did she really have to show up every time they needed her, just because they needed her?

"Fine. Suit yourself. I'm hanging up now."

Vince stepped out of the bedroom, water glass in hand, intent on refilling it. He paused when he saw the kitchen light was still on.

The air was thick with the warm, buttery aroma of something baking—a blend of milk and eggs.

He walked quietly to the kitchen doorway and found Jessica standing at the counter, deftly spreading frosting over a cake.

She was making a cake?

Today was Henry's birthday.

She remembered.

Vince lingered in the shadows, keeping his distance.

About half an hour later, Jessica emerged from the kitchen, carrying the cake.

It was small-maybe six inches across-but carefully decorated, the creamy swirls on top forming a delicate pattern.

Vince watched her from behind a wall, hidden, silent.

He expected Jessica to box up the cake and take it to the hospital. Instead, she carried it straight back to her room.

Vince trailed her upstairs.

door closed

bedroom. From the far corner, separated by the glass, he watched

would have

out a scrapbook filled

open

Vince saw her

time, Jessica read through

and Henry together on his

his bedside when he

together in the same

TV, Henry planting a

So many memories.

back to

old enough to remember, he'd captured-painstakingly, vividly, with scissors and

of the two of

to that visit to Oakwood, when she overheard Henry

Jessica that when he could finish a book all

He remembered.

end, he gave his

onto

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