My daughter, we need a roof over our heads just as much as I need treatment. You shouldn’t have carried this burden alone, and I couldn’t watch you get worse because we’re trying to save rent. Your life will always come first for me. Only two tablets are left. Then let those two finish.
Mama, please don’t say that. We’ll find another way. What else should I say? We owe the clinic, we owe the landlord, and your job applications keep getting rejected. Then say you’ll get better. Say we’ll overcome this together. That’s all I want to hear. Then don’t give up.
We haven’t reached the end of our story. Bring me that brown box over there. This one? Right. Open it. The old wooden box carried memories Grace had hidden away for many years. I’ve seen this picture before. Look underneath it. Is this Prince Alexander? Yes. He was only 7 years old then. He looks so innocent.
