UNTIL MY DYING BREATHE

Claire's POV It was a chilly morning, the kind where the air nipped at your skin just enough to remind you that fall was near. I walked briskly across campus, the wind pulling at my hair. My phone vibrated in my pocket, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. My stomach twisted for a second, a fleeting unease, but I ignored it. Probably a spam call, I thought, tucking the phone back into my jacket. I had a few minutes before class, and my mind was already buzzing with thoughts of the lecture ahead. But the phone buzzed again—the same number. Sighing, I pulled it out and answered, barely catching my breath before a voice rushed through the speaker. “Miss Claire? This is City General Hospital. We have an emergency. It’s your father…” The world around me froze. My father? I felt my feet moving before I realized it, my body rushing instinctively toward the parking lot. I barely registered the rest of the call. The nurse’s voice blurred with my heartbeat pounding in my ears. All I could think about was getting there. I didn’t care about missing class, didn’t care about the people staring as I shoved my way through the crowded campus. I rushed into my car as I thought about my father. He gave the car to me as a birthday gift right after high school. The drive to the hospital was a blur of traffic lights and honking cars. My hands shook, clutching the steering wheel as if it were the only thing grounding me. A hundred thoughts raced through my mind, but one kept clawing its way to the surface—What if this is it? I sprinted through the hospital doors, not even pausing at the front desk. The elevator seemed too slow, and when I reached the right floor, I found myself running again. My legs carried me down sterile hallways until I reached his room. There he was, lying in the bed, looking so much smaller than he ever had before. My dad—my strong, invincible dad—looked fragile, pale, and weak. A lump formed in my throat, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe. “Dad…” My voice cracked as I stepped closer, sitting beside him. His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled weakly at me. “Hey, kiddo.” His voice was barely above a whisper, rasping like each word took effort. “What happened?” I asked, my voice trembling as I tried to keep myself together. “They said you passed out—Dad, what’s wrong?” He was silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly. Then, in the gentlest voice, he said, “Claire, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you… but I’ve been sick for a while.” My heart dropped. “Sick? What do you mean, sick?” His eyes met mine, and I could see it there—something dark, something heavy. “Cancer,” he said quietly. “They found it a few months ago… it’s spread too far. I don’t have much time left.” “No…” The word slipped out before I could stop it, a desperate whisper. My whole body felt cold. “Why didn’t you tell me? How—how could you keep this from me?” He winced at my tone, but I couldn’t help it. Anger, fear, and confusion crashed over me, all at once. How could I not have known? How had I missed the signs? I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been paying more attention. “I didn’t want you to worry,” he said softly, reaching for my hand. “I didn’t want you to lose focus, especially not with school. You’re doing so well, Claire. I wanted you to keep going… without the burden of this.” Tears stung my eyes, and I shook my head, trying to keep them from falling. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve been here. I would’ve been here…” “I know,” he whispered, squeezing my hand. “I know.” The room felt heavy, the air too thick. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the moments I could have spent with him. All the missed chances. And now—now I was losing him, and there was nothing I could do. He shifted slightly, wincing in pain. “Listen to me, Claire,” he said, his voice more urgent now. “There’s something I need to tell you before it’s too late.” I swallowed hard, trying to calm the fear and anxiety in my chest. “What is it?” He took a deep breath, struggling for each word. “You… you were never meant to be my daughter. You’re adopted.” My mind reeled. “What? What are you talking about?” He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his strength. “I found you, Claire. When you were five. You washed up on the shore near the house. You didn’t remember anything—not even your name. I searched everywhere, tried to find out where you came from, but… there was no trace. No one was looking for you.” I stared at him, the world tilting around me. “No… no, that can’t be right. You… you’re my dad. You’ve always been my dad.” “I am,” he said softly, tears glistening in his eyes. “In every way that matters, I am. But your real family—they didn’t want you. I’m sorry, Claire. I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t want you to feel… abandoned.” I couldn’t breathe. The walls felt like they were closing in, his words hitting me like a thousand tiny daggers. I was adopted? Did he find me? None of it made sense. And yet, somehow, it explained everything—the gaps in my memory, the strange feeling I always had, like a piece of me was missing. “Why?” I choked out, my voice barely audible. “Why didn’t they want me?” “I don’t know,” he whispered, looking at me with such sorrow that it broke something inside me. “I tried, Claire. I tried to find out, but… there was nothing.” He coughed suddenly, his breath hitching, and I grabbed his hand tighter. “Dad, please,” I begged, my heart pounding in my chest. “Don’t—don’t go.” He struggled for breath, each gasp more labored than the last. “Listen… you’re stronger than you know, Claire,” he rasped, his eyes locking onto mine with such intensity that I felt it deep in my soul. “I love you. No matter what.” Tears streamed down my face as I watched him, helpless. His chest rose once, then twice, and then— The machine beside him flatlined, a long, piercing tone that cut through the air. “Dad? Dad!” I screamed, shaking him, but he didn’t move. He was gone. Just like that. I collapsed against the bed, sobbing, as the nurses rushed in around me. Everything felt distant, and muted, as if I were trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. The last thing he said echoed in my mind, "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… about who you really are.”