Little Girl from Across the Street Waved at Me Every Day and Night — What I Saw When I Went to Inspect Her House Left Me Breathless

For weeks, a little girl from across the street waved at me day and night. I couldn’t shake the haunting look in her eyes. When I finally went to see who she was, nothing could’ve prepared me for the heartbreaking truth waiting behind that door.

Every evening, I would watch this little girl from my window. She was always there, a small, petite figure no older than five standing by the window, her tiny hand waving at me. Her eyes, fixed on mine, held an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. Who was she? What did she want from me?

A little girl waving her hand from a window | Source: Midjourney

A little girl waving her hand from a window | Source: Midjourney

I turned to my wife, Sandy, who was curled up on the couch with a book. “Babe, she’s there again. The girl I told you about.”

Sandy looked up, her brow furrowed. “The one who’s always waving at you?”

I nodded, feeling a pang of sorrow. “Yeah. There’s something… I don’t know. Something in her eyes. It’s like she’s trying to tell me something.”

A woman reading a book | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a book | Source: Midjourney

Sandy set her book aside and joined me at the window. “Oh, Arnie,” she said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe she’s just a lonely kid. Have you tried waving back?”

I shook my head, my eyes still fixed on the little figure across the street. “No, I can’t explain it, Sandy. It feels like more than that. Like she’s calling out to me.”

Sandy’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “Honey, you’re scaring me a little. It’s just a kid waving. Don’t read too much into it, okay?”

I tore my gaze away from the window and forced a smile. “You’re right. I’m probably just overthinking things.”

A man looking somewhere | Source: Midjourney

A man looking somewhere | Source: Midjourney

As I pulled the curtains shut, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was turning my back on something important.

That night, sleep eluded me, my dreams haunted by the image of the little girl crying out for help.

“Don’t leave me,” she sobbed in my dreams. “Please, don’t go.”

I woke up in a cold sweat, Sandy’s concerned face hovering over me.

“Arnie? Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep.”

Grayscale shot of a man sleeping | Source: Pexels

Grayscale shot of a man sleeping | Source: Pexels

I sat up, my heart racing. “I… I don’t know. That girl. She was in my dreams. She was crying.”

Sandy’s eyes widened with worry. “Maybe we should talk to someone about this. A therapist, maybe?”

I shook my head. “No, I think I need to do something. I can’t keep ignoring this.”

At the break of dawn, I woke up exhausted. My head was pounding from last night’s nightmares. The aroma of freshly made pancakes wafted up from the kitchen, but even the promise of my favorite breakfast did little to lift my spirits.

A distressed man holding his head | Source: Pexels

A distressed man holding his head | Source: Pexels

I trudged downstairs, where Sandy greeted me with a steaming cup of tea and a plate of golden pancakes.

“Rough night?”

I nodded, taking a sip of the hot tea. “Yeah, couldn’t shake off those dreams.”

As I finished my breakfast, I was drawn to the window again. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the little girl standing there. She waved at me the moment our eyes met.

Her tiny outstretched hand seemed to pull me towards her like a moth drawn to a flame.

A sad little girl waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

A sad little girl waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

I set down my cup with a clatter. “That’s it. I’m going to talk to her parents. I can’t take this anymore.”

Sandy’s eyes widened. “Arnie, are you sure about this?”

I nodded, my eyes fixed on the building across the street. “I have to know, Sandy. I can’t explain it, but… I feel like she needs me. She’s getting creepy. She waved at me the same way last night. What does she want? I don’t get it.”

Window view of a building across the street | Source: Pexels

Window view of a building across the street | Source: Pexels

Sandy came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Just be careful, okay? And call me if anything feels off.”

I turned and kissed her forehead. “I will. I promise.”

The walk across the street felt like the longest journey of my life. My heart pounded in my chest as I approached the building, my palms sweaty as I pressed the buzzer for the apartment I’d seen the girl in so many times.

Close-up of a man pressing a buzzer near a door | Source: Pexels

Close-up of a man pressing a buzzer near a door | Source: Pexels

There was a long pause, and then a woman’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Yes? Who is it?”

“Hi, I’m Arnold from across the street. I wanted to talk to you about your daughter.”

Another pause, longer this time. Then, the door buzzed open.

A woman holding the door handle | Source: Pexels

A woman holding the door handle | Source: Pexels

A woman stood in the doorway. My heart stopped the moment I saw her.

“JULIETTE?” I whispered, hardly believing my eyes.

She nodded, her eyes glistening with tears. “Hello, Arnie. It’s been a long time.”

Portrait of a woman near a door | Source: Midjourney

Portrait of a woman near a door | Source: Midjourney

Before I could respond, a small figure appeared behind Juliette. The little girl. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and hopeful.

“DADDY?!” she chirped.

I felt like I was on a boat in a storm. I gripped the doorframe to steady myself.

“What did she say?”

Juliette stepped aside, ushering me in. “Come inside, Arnie. We have a lot to talk about.”

A cheerful little girl looking up and smiling | Source: Midjourney

A cheerful little girl looking up and smiling | Source: Midjourney

I sank onto the worn couch, my head spinning. Juliette sat across from me, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Arnie, do you remember that weekend at the lake house? Six years ago?”

I nodded, memories flooding back. “Our last weekend together before—”

“Before we broke up,” she finished. “What I didn’t know then was… I was already pregnant.”

My head snapped up. “What? But how? Why didn’t you tell me?”

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

Juliette’s tears spilled over. “I tried, Arnie. God, I tried. But you’d moved out of town and changed your number. It was like you’d vanished.”

“I had a right to know,” I choked out, my eyes stinging.

“I know. I was young and scared. By the time I worked up the courage to really look for you, years had passed. I thought it was too late.”

The little girl, whom Juliette called Heidi, sat silently in a corner, her eyes never leaving my face.

My daughter. The word echoed in my mind, foreign, terrifying, and wonderful all at once.

A woman crying | Source: Pexels

A woman crying | Source: Pexels

“When did you move here?” I turned to Juliette.

“A few months ago. I got a job transfer. When I saw you through the window that first day…” she trailed off, her eyes distant. “I told Heidi you were her father. I thought maybe it was fate giving us another chance. But then, I saw you with someone—”

“She’s my wife, Sandy.”

A long silence. Then I stood up abruptly, my mind reeling. “I need to go. I need to think.”

A distressed man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

A distressed man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney

Heidi’s face crumpled. “Daddy? Are you leaving?”

The word struck me like a dagger to my heart. I knelt down in front of her, my heart breaking at the fear in her eyes.

“I’ll be back, sweetheart. I promise. I just need some time, okay?”

She nodded solemnly, and I felt a surge of love so strong it nearly knocked me off my feet.

A cheerful little girl | Source: Midjourney

A cheerful little girl | Source: Midjourney

As I left the apartment, Juliette called after me. “Arnie? I’m sorry. For everything.”

I couldn’t bring myself to respond.

The walk home was a blur. I found Sandy waiting anxiously by the door.

“Arnie? What happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

A heartbroken man walking on the road | Source: Pixabay

A heartbroken man walking on the road | Source: Pixabay

I collapsed into her arms, the tears finally breaking free. Between sobs, I told her everything. About Juliette, about Heidi, and about the daughter I never knew I had.

Sandy listened in stunned silence, her arms tight around me. When I finished, she pulled back, her eyes searching mine.

“What are you going to do?” she asked softly.

I shook my head, lost. “I don’t know. I have a daughter, Sandy. A little girl who’s been waving at me and trying to reach me. How do I just walk away from that?”

A woman looking at a man | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at a man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m just as shocked as you are, Arnie. But we need to be careful. You can’t just take everything Juliette says at face value.”

“What do you mean?”

“We should get a DNA test first. Just to be sure,” Sandy said, squeezing my shoulders.

A woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

The next day, I stood at Juliette’s door again. When she opened it, I blurted out, “Juliette, I think we need a DNA test.”

Her face instantly hardened. “What? You think I’m lying? You just found out you have a child, and you’re already doubting me? You’re unbelievable, Arnie.”

“I just want to be certain before I commit to anything,” I tried to explain, but she slammed the door in my face.

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

An angry woman | Source: Pexels

Dejected, I returned home and shared what happened with my mother. She listened quietly, then asked for Juliette’s address.

I wasn’t sure what my mom said to her, but the next day, Juliette called.

“Hey, Juliette here. I got your number from your mother. I’ve thought about it and understand. We can do the DNA test.”

I sighed with relief. “Thank you, Juliette. I appreciate it.”

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

When I told Sandy, she wasn’t thrilled. “I love you, Arnie. God help me, I do. And I’ll stand by you through this. But I’m scared. I just hope this doesn’t change anything between us,” she sobbed as I pulled her closer, my eyes brimming with tears.

The next few weeks were an emotional rollercoaster, each day bringing a new wave of anxiety, hope, and fear.

When the DNA test results finally arrived, my hands trembled as I opened the envelope. The words blurred before my eyes, but one phrase stood out in stark clarity: “99.99% probability of paternity.”

My heart raced. Heidi was my daughter.

A document on a table | Source: Midjourney

A document on a table | Source: Midjourney

But a small part of me, the part still reeling from this life-altering revelation, whispered doubts.

What if there was a mistake?

I couldn’t bear the thought of embracing this new reality only to have it ripped away.

So I took another test and endured another agonizing wait. The second results came back, also positive. Tears streamed down my face as I called out to Sandy.

An emotional man | Source: Pixabay

An emotional man | Source: Pixabay

“It’s true,” I sobbed on her shoulders. “She’s really mine. My daughter.”

Dead silence, then, “Oh, Arnie, I’m here for you. For both of you.”

Sandy and I visited Juliette’s apartment, where Heidi greeted me with a cry of “Daddy!” and threw herself into my arms.

As I held her, I looked at Sandy, afraid of what I might see in her eyes. But she was smiling through her tears, her hand reaching out to smooth Heidi’s hair.

“She’s beautiful,” Sandy whispered.

A happy little girl holding a teddy bear | Source: Midjourney

A happy little girl holding a teddy bear | Source: Midjourney

Juliette watched us, joy and sadness brimming in her eyes. “I never meant to complicate your lives,” she said. “I just wanted Heidi to know her father.”

I nodded, understanding flooding through me. “I’m glad you did. I’m glad I know her now.”

As we left that day, Heidi clung to my leg. “You’ll come back, right Daddy?”

I knelt down, looking into those eyes that were so like mine. “Of course, I will, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

A little girl looking up with a warm smile | Source: Midjourney

A little girl looking up with a warm smile | Source: Midjourney

On the walk home, Sandy laced her fingers through mine. “So, we’re parents now, huh?”

I squeezed her hand. “Looks like it. Are you okay with this?”

She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “We’ve been trying to have kids for two years now, but it hasn’t happened. It’s not how I imagined it happening. But yes, I think I am okay.”

As we reached our front door, I pulled Sandy into a hug. “I love you. Thank you for being so amazing through all of this.”

“I love you too. And Arnie? I think you’re going to be a wonderful father.”

Silhouette of a couple holding hands and walking | Source: Unsplash

Silhouette of a couple holding hands and walking | Source: Unsplash

That night, as I stood by our window, I saw Heidi waving from across the street. But this time, instead of fear or confusion, I felt only love. I waved back, my heart full to bursting.

Maybe this wasn’t how I’d planned to become a father. Maybe it wasn’t the path I would have chosen. But as I stood there, waving at my daughter, I knew with absolute certainty that it was the path I was meant to be on all along.

A man waving his hand | Source: Midjourney

A man waving his hand | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

Hours Before My Wedding, a Strange Elderly Woman Approached Me and Asked to Read My Palm

On Claire and David’s wedding day, a mysterious old woman shows up on their driveway, ready to read Claire’s palm. Claire, not believing in the practice, is skeptical… until the old woman reveals details that are too accurate to be a hoax.

The morning of my wedding was everything I’d dreamed of. It was chaotic, I was buzzing with excitement, and it was filled with love. My bridesmaids would be arriving soon, and we were planning on having a charcuterie board lunch with champagne on the side.

A charcuterie board | Source: Midjourney

A charcuterie board | Source: Midjourney

My dress was hanging in its garment bag, and I was marrying David, my best friend and the man who’d made me believe in forever. Our wedding was going to be different. David and I were getting married on a yacht at night, so really, we had the entire day to get ready for the rest of our lives…

At least, that’s what I thought.

I put on my face mask and stepped outside to meet the delivery man with my bouquet. I had wanted it to be delivered at the last minute so that it would be perfect with no wilting buds.

A woman with a face mask on | Source: Midjourney

A woman with a face mask on | Source: Midjourney

But as I walked to the driveway, waiting for the delivery truck to come, I noticed her.

She was standing near the path that cut through my front yard. An elderly woman with weathered skin, wild gray hair, and clothes that looked as though they hadn’t been washed in weeks.

And still, despite her ragged appearance, her eyes were sharp, almost piercing. There was something unsettlingly calm about her.

An old woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

An old woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

“Child,” she called out, her voice soft but commanding. “Come closer, Child.”

I hesitated. Every instinct told me to ignore her and go back inside, but something in her gaze made me stop. Against my better judgment, I walked toward her. Maybe she was hungry. I could make her a cup of tea and a sandwich and let her go on her way.

It was my wedding day, after all. How would I send an old woman away?

A sandwich and cup of tea on a counter | Source: Midjourney

A sandwich and cup of tea on a counter | Source: Midjourney

“Let me see your hand, Child,” she said, reaching out. “I want to read your palm. Let’s see what the lines on your palm have to say. Let’s uncover their secrets.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, forcing a smile. “But I don’t really believe in that sort of thing.”

She smiled faintly.

A woman holding her hand out | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her hand out | Source: Midjourney

“You don’t have to believe, my dear,” she said. “You just have to listen. Maybe something will resonate with you.”

Before I could protest, she reached out and gently took my hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone so frail. I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t.

“The man you are about to marry,” she began, her voice low and deliberate as she traced one of the lines on my palm.

“Yes?” I asked.

A woman holding her arm out | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her arm out | Source: Midjourney

“He has a mark on his right thigh? A heart-shaped birthmark, yes?”

I froze. My stomach tightened. I hadn’t told anyone about David’s birthmark. How could she possibly know?

“And his mother?” she continued, her gaze unwavering. “She wasn’t part of his life, no? She’s dead now, isn’t she?”

I nodded slowly, a chill running down my spine.

A man's birthmark | Source: Midjourney

A man’s birthmark | Source: Midjourney

“How… how do you know that?”

Her expression darkened.

“Child, he’s going to ruin your life. But you still have a choice! If you want to know the truth, look inside the stuffed rabbit he keeps in his closet.”

I stumbled back, pulling my hand free.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

A stuffed rabbit toy | Source: Midjourney

A stuffed rabbit toy | Source: Midjourney

“Trust your instincts,” she said. “And remember, love built on lies will crumble.”

I was ready to turn away, but then my bouquet came. Quickly, I picked it up from the delivery man and then hurried back into the house, slamming the door behind me. My heart pounded as her words echoed in my mind.

The stuffed rabbit.

David had told me about it once, a toy his mother gave him before she died. He kept it tucked away in his closet so that he could still have a piece of her.

A woman looking concerned | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking concerned | Source: Midjourney

Quickly, I washed my face mask off and sent a text to the group my bridesmaids had created.

Running a quick errand, I’ll let you know when I’m home. Then we can celebrate!

“Okay, Claire,” I told myself. “Let’s go find a stuffed bunny.”

David was at his dad’s house getting ready. So I was alone; I could do whatever I wanted. And what I wanted was to uncover the truth.

A woman in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

Was the old woman just talking absolute nonsense, or was there more to it?

I opened David’s closet and pulled out the rabbit. Its gray fur was worn and faded, and I noticed something I hadn’t before. A small zipper on its back.

My heart raced as I unzipped it. Inside was a bundle of folded papers.

Pieces of paper on a bed | Source: Midjourney

Pieces of paper on a bed | Source: Midjourney

Son, why are you ashamed of me? Please don’t abandon me. I love you.-Mom

I stared at the words, my chest tightening. The next note was even more heartbreaking.

I’ve been calling for weeks. Why won’t you answer, David?

And then the third:

Please, let me see you just once. I need to know you’re okay.

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

My legs felt like jelly as I sank onto the floor. David’s mother wasn’t dead. She was alive. And she had been desperately trying to get to know him. But how had she been sending him these notes? Through the mailbox?

The realization hit me suddenly.

David had lied to me. About his mother. About something so fundamental, so deeply personal. My mind raced, trying to piece it all together. Why would he lie? Was it shame? Manipulation?

A woman sitting on the floor in a nightgown | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on the floor in a nightgown | Source: Midjourney

Or something darker?

I grabbed my phone and dialed him, my fingers shaking as they touched the screen.

“Hey, Claire,” he said, his voice light. “What’s up? No cold feet, right?”

“You need to come home,” I said. “Now.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, concern creeping into his tone.

A woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney

“Just get here, David, please.” I hung up before he could say anything else.

When he arrived, he looked worried.

“Claire, what’s going on? We’re not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!”

His eyes darted to my face, then to the stuffed rabbit clutched in my hands.

“Explain this,” I said, holding up the notes.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

His face went pale. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Slowly, he sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

“It’s complicated, Claire,” he said finally.

“Complicated? How? You told me that your mother was dead, David! You lied to me about something so huge. How is that complicated?”

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

He lifted his head, tears brimming in his eyes.

“My dad… he made me choose between them. After the divorce, he told me that she wasn’t good enough. He said that she was a mess, that she liked her beer and could only hold jobs at diners that wanted to give her a chance. He said that I’d have a better life without her. I was just a kid, Claire. I didn’t know any better.”

“And now? You’re not a kid anymore! You’ve been ignoring her since when? She’s been begging to see you. These notes are proof. Do you have any idea how cruel that is?”

A woman working at a diner | Source: Midjourney

A woman working at a diner | Source: Midjourney

“I know,” he said. “I know I messed up. I’ve been so ashamed. I didn’t know how to fix it.”

I stared at him, my heart breaking but also… defeated. Who was this man?

“You lied to me. How am I supposed to marry someone I can’t trust?”

His face crumpled.

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

“Please, Claire,” he said. “Don’t do this! I’ll make it right. I’ll go to her. I know where she lives. She’s in a couple’s outbuilding. I’ll apologize. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I took a deep breath.

“Go find her, David. Make things right with her. Until you do, I can’t marry you.”

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

His eyes widened in panic.

“Claire…”

“No, actions speak louder than words,” I said, cutting him off. “Go.”

Hours passed, and I couldn’t focus on anything. I texted my bridesmaids group again and told them that the wedding was off. The yacht was ready, the guests were starting to arrive, and my phone buzzed incessantly with texts from my mom and bridesmaids.

A woman sitting on a couch and texting | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch and texting | Source: Midjourney

Please, sort it out. The wedding is canceled. I’m okay. Don’t come home, just tell the guests and make sure everyone eats before they leave the yacht. Lots of love, girls.

All I could think about was David and the woman who had appeared like a ghost to warn me.

It was nearly evening when I heard the knock at my door. I opened it to find David standing there, his face tear-streaked and his shoulders slumped.

Wedding guests on a yacht | Source: Midjourney

Wedding guests on a yacht | Source: Midjourney

But there was something else, a sense of relief, of peace.

“I found her,” he said softly. “I apologized. She forgave me.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

And then he stepped aside.

Standing behind him was the elderly woman from earlier. Her gray hair glowed in the fading light, and her eyes, those piercing, knowing eyes, were now brimming with tears.

A woman and her son | Source: Midjourney

A woman and her son | Source: Midjourney

“Claire,” David said, his voice breaking. “This is my mother.”

The weight of her words from earlier hit me. She had risked everything to warn me, to save her son from the lies that had kept them apart. And to give me the truth before it was too late.

“Thank you,” I whispered, hugging her.

She smiled.

A shocked woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you for giving him the chance to find his way back.”

David and I didn’t get married that day. But in the months that followed, he worked tirelessly to rebuild his relationship with his mother. And during those months, I made sure that he got his answers from his father.

“I will not have your father in my life unless he can explain why he was so ugly to your mother. She needs love and car, David. She looks more aged and worn out than anyone her age, and don’t you think that’s because of your father? He did this to her.”

“I know,” he said, handing me a cup of tea. “But what can I do? Demand to know why he’s such a horrible person?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed.

A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

David, true to his word, did have a proper sit down with his father, and Alec came clean.

“I didn’t want you to choose your mother, David. I didn’t want you to be burdened with her issues, and if anything, I should have taken care of her. I asked for the divorce because I didn’t want that responsibility. And now what? She’s back and she looks like she needs so much care. It’s all my fault.”

David accepted what his father had to say, but I could see that their relationship would forever be strained.

Two men having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

Two men having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

And when we did finally get married, it was a small, intimate ceremony with Estelle, David’s mother, by our side.

We had taken her for medicals and gotten her treatment for her liver. We rented out a small apartment for her, because as much as she wanted to be back in David’s life, she wasn’t used to living with people.

Sometimes, love isn’t about perfect beginnings. It’s about finding your way back to the truth… and to the people who matter most.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

My Dying MIL Called Me in Tears to Reveal a Terrible Secret That Changed Everything

When my dying mother-in-law called me late one night, I never expected her to confess a secret that would turn our lives upside down. That secret led me to a point where I had to make a difficult choice.

I’ve been married to Dawson for about ten years, and my mother-in-law never missed a chance to remind me that I wasn’t the kind of woman she wanted for her son.

A woman talking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Colette is one of those people who believe in telling the truth, no matter how bitter it is. She doesn’t care if the truth will hurt her loved ones because she believes honesty comes first.

“I wanted Dawson to marry my friend’s daughter,” she told me one day when she came over to our place. “I always thought they’d make a great couple.”

A woman speaking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Honestly, I wanted to tell her off, but I’m not the type to disrespect anyone. I always ignored her snide remarks, and that’s the only reason our relationship survived.

A few months ago, Colette was diagnosed with cancer, and the doctors said she didn’t have much time left. Before her diagnosis, we only saw each other at family gatherings and rarely spoke otherwise.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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