Tears before good bye

“See you tomorrow, Olivia!” Sarah called out cheerfully. Olivia waved back with a smile, unaware that by tomorrow, her entire world would be shattered. “Mom… I think I’m going to die.” The words had come so softly, so innocently, from Lily’s lips as she clutched her favorite stuffed bear. Olivia had laughed then, brushing it off with a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t say that, baby. You’re not going anywhere. I promise.” “But what if God wants me?” Lily had whispered. Olivia stopped walking. The memory struck like a thunderclap unexpected and cruel. She stood there on the sidewalk, her smile fading, her heart suddenly heavy she turned toward her car. Sliding into her small blue sedan, she turned the key and the soft hum of the engine came to life. She plugged in her phone and selected her favorite playlist—an old mix of cheerful hits Lily loved to sing along to. As the beat filled the car, Olivia smiled to herself and joined in, her voice light and off-key. The evening sun cast a soft golden glow across the parking lot, the warmth matching the glow on her face. She had just finished her shift, and the thought of going home to see her little girl made her heart Race. Traffic was the usual chaos. Horns blared, motorcycles zipped between cars, and a group of teens sold cold drinks at a junction. Olivia rolled her window down and bought a small bag of roasted peanuts and a lollipop. “This one’s for my sweet Lily,” she whispered with a grin, placing the candy in the cup holder. By the time she reached her quiet neighborhood, the sky had turned a sleepy orange. Olivia Traffic was the usual chaos. Horns blared, motorcycles zipped between cars, and a group of teens sold cold drinks at a junction. Olivia rolled her window down and bought a small bag of roasted peanuts and a lollipop. “This one’s for my sweet Lily,” she whispered with a grin, placing the candy in the cup holder. By the time she reached her quiet neighborhood, the sky had turned a sleepy orange. Olivia turned down the music, her heart beating faster—not from stress, but from excitement. She pulled up in front of her small house, already imagining Lily running into her arms with that gap-toothed smile and tiny voice shouting, “Mommy!” But as she stepped out of the car and looked toward the porch… something didn’t feel right. . She pulled up in front of her small house, already imagining Lily running into her arms with that gap-toothed smile and tiny voice shouting, “Mommy!” But as she stepped out of the car and looked toward the porch… something didn’t feel right. She stepped into the house, the door creaking softly behind her as she pushed it open. The lights were off. The silence settled around her like a heavy coat. “Lily?” she called gently, setting down the paper bag with the juice and the tiny pink hair clips she’d bought on the way home. “Daddy? Anyone home?” Only silence answered back. A chill ran through her as she scanned the quiet living room. The TV remote lay untouched on the couch. Lily’s favorite teddy bunny was on the floor — alone. Olivia’s smile faltered. Her phone buzzed in her coat pocket, startling her. She fumbled for it, heart lifting for just a moment as Marcus’s name lit up the screen. She hesitated. Then answered. “Where are you?” she asked. Her voice came out steady, but there was a tremble beneath it — a tired crack that slipped through. On the other end, silence. Long enough that her breath caught. Then his voice came, low and indifferent. “I’m... busy. I’ll be home later.” Her chest tightened. Busy? She closed her eyes. “Marcus, Lily’s been asking for you all week. You said today—” “I know what I said,” he cut in, voice clipped. She bit her lip, blinking hard against the sting in her eyes. “She made a card for you. She’s still waiting... You promised.” The line went quiet again. Then the call ended. She stared at her phone screen until it went dark, her arm slowly falling to her side. Her grip on the phone tightened, knuckles whitening. She blinked rapidly, trying to push back the sting in her eyes. “Busy?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Marcus, it’s Lily’s birthday tomorrow. She’s been asking about you all week.” Another pause. “I said I’ll be home later,” he replied flatly, as if the weight of those words meant nothing to him. No apology. No explanation. Just cold detachment. Olivia felt a growing sense of fear and sadness, like a heavy weight in her stomach.A growing pit of dread and disappointment. “You promised her,” she said quietly, the words trembling as they escaped. “She’s been counting the days.” “I have things to handle,” Marcus muttered. “We’ll talk later.” The line went dead. Olivia stood still for a moment, staring at the screen as it faded to black. Then, slowly, she lowered the phone and looked around the house again so quiet, too quiet. Her throat felt tight. She took a deep breath and forced her feet to move, heading toward Lily’s room. With each step, the sadness in her chest deepened. There was Lily, fast asleep in her little bed, clutching her doll to her chest. Olivia noticed a crumpled piece of paper on the nightstand—Lily’s drawing of the amusement park, with three stick figures: Mommy, Daddy, and her, all holding hands. Olivia’s heart broke a little more. She knelt by the bed and brushed a strand of hair from her daughter’s forehead. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “I’ll make tomorrow special even if he doesn’t show.” A tear slid down her cheek.And in the silence of that small room, her heart made a silent vow. Lily’s small hand reached up, trembling, trying to grasp her mother’s. Her lips parted weakly as she tried to speak. “Mom… welcome…” Her voice was barely a whisper, fragile and fading. Olivia’s heart clenched. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.” Suddenly, Lily’s body shook violently as convulsions took over. Olivia’s eyes widened in panic, her hands trembling as she tried to steady her daughter. “Lily! Stay with me, please!” she pleaded, her voice breaking. Tears streamed down Olivia’s face as she gently held Lily, whispering soothing words, though inside, fear gripped her like a vice. Lily’s convulsions grew worse, her small body trembling uncontrollably. Olivia’s breath caught in her throat as panic surged through her veins. “Help! Someone, please help!” she screamed, her voice raw and desperate. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she shook Lily gently, pleading, “Stay with me, baby! Don’t leave me!” But just as her fingers felt for a pulse, the door swung open—and a cold voice whispered, “It’s not over yet.”