Mom hurriedly hid the painkillers behind her. When she looked up and saw me, a flicker of joy crossed her sallow face.

"Lily, senior year is so hectic—how'd you find time to come home?"

I secretly stuffed the crumpled diagnosis into my pocket and forced a small smile.

"I missed you guys. Asked my teacher for leave."

Dad didn't scold me for being impulsive.

He took two eggs he'd been saving from the cabinet and steamed my favorite egg custard.

While eating, I kept my head low—low enough that my bangs hid the tear tracks on my face.

Mom noticed something was off.

She brushed the hair from my forehead, wiped my cheeks with the back of her hand, and asked gently, "Lily, did something happen?"

To keep them from worrying, I made up a lie.

"One of my classmates got really sick. But their family can't afford treatment."

"I think… they can only wait to die."

Dad sighed. "Only seventeen, eighteen years old. What a tragedy."

"If you ever got sick, your mom and I—even if we had to borrow from loan sharks, go sell our blood—we'd find a way to save you."

Mom glared at him. "Our Lily is perfectly healthy. Don't say such unlucky things!"

I couldn't help it—my hand trembled, and my chopsticks clattered to the floor.

Yeah. If I insisted on treatment, my parents would probably have no choice but to borrow from loan sharks and sell their blood.

But for a family like mine, even if we sold our bones clean, we still couldn't scrape together $500,000.

I was only eighteen. I hadn't gone to college yet, hadn't dated, hadn't properly experienced this world.

I didn't want to die.

But to keep from crushing my parents, I could only choose death.

Two:

After making the decision, I actually felt lighter.

I forced myself to be optimistic, taking big bites of the steamed egg custard Dad made, hoping only to leave them good memories.

When we parted, Dad pulled a crumpled fifteen dollars from the sole of his shoe.

"Lily, this is what's left from your mom's medicine money. Take it for pocket change."

Tears welling, I waved my hand, turned, and walked out the door.

The instant I stepped outside, it hit me in a daze—this would be the last time I'd ever see my parents.

My composure shattered. Tears poured out.

Back still turned to them, I choked down my sobs and asked, "Dad, Mom, if I weren't here, would you two have it easier?"

Mom's voice was doting, with a hint of reproach.