The rooftop was empty now. The candles had burned low, the laughter had faded, and the last of the string lights were being carefully packed away. The celebration was over—but not for Sabrina.
She sat beside her mother’s hospital bed, the soft beep of the monitor the only sound in the dim room. Patricia was propped up with pillows, her hands still folded neatly on her lap, eyes glowing with a calm joy that only deepened Sabrina’s ache.
Patricia reached for her daughter’s hand.
“It was perfect,” she whispered. “Everything. The lights, the music, the way Ethan looked at you… You’re so lucky, my darling.”
Sabrina managed a small smile. Her throat was raw from holding back too much for too long.
“I didn’t think I’d get to see something like that,” her mother continued, her voice thin but
