Chapter 22 I could picture it clearly. The frame hanging there for two years, marking each milestone of our relationship. Now it was gone, removed to make room for Camila's things. The nail had been left behind like an afterthought, a sharp reminder of what I'd become in Darrell's life. Disposable. I cleaned the wound carefully, wincing as the antiseptic burned. The physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. I walked back to the main room and sat cross-legged on the carpet. I pulled out the velvet pouch and carefully emptied the broken sapphire pieces onto the cream-colored rug. The fragments spread before me like the remnants of my old life. Each fragment caught the lamp light differently. Some pieces were no bigger than sand grains. My fingers trembled as I tried to arrange the larger pieces back together. The intricate spider web of cracks made it impossible. Too much damage. Too many missing chips. A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it. This was the last thing Mom and I made together. The memories crashed over me without warning, pulling me back fifteen years to another snowy night. December 20th. The night before my fifteenth birthday. Snow fell outside my bedroom window as Mom's gentle hand touched my shoulder. "Sabi," she whispered, her voice soft as a feather. "Mom wants to make a special birthday gift with you. Will you keep me company?" I rubbed my sleepy eyes. "Now? Mom, it's really late… but it sounds fun!" Her smile seemed different that night. Brighter somehow, but fragile around the edges. But I should have known something was terribly wrong months before that night. Mom had been in the hospital for several months after the war. She'd been Dad's Gamma, fighting beside him to protect our lands when an enemy blade found its mark. "Why won't the wound heal?" I'd whispered to Dad during one of our daily hospital visits. "Why doesn't Mom's wolf Vera answer her anymore?" Dad's face had gone gray. "The blade was poisoned, Sable. Something that blocks the connection between wolf and human." Every day after school, I'd sit by Mom's hospital bed watching her grow weaker. The vibrant woman who'd taught me to climb trees and catch fireflies was fading before my eyes. Then one morning, she'd suddenly announced she could come home. "Really, Mom? You're all better?" Her smile had been too bright, too forced. "Yes, sweetheart. Much better." I was too young, too hopeful to see the lie. Only years later did I understand the truth - Mom knew she was dying. She'd chosen to spend her final weeks at home rather than let me watch her waste away in that sterile hospital room. We tiptoed to her craft room. Mom opened an antique jewelry box I'd never seen before. Inside lay a magnificent sapphire, but the old setting had tarnished and worn. 1/3 This stone witnessed three generations of Sterling women's love stories," Mom said, her hands shaking slightly. "From my grandmother to my mother, then to me. Now I want to give it new life with you." She taught me to weave silver wire into delicate chains. Each link required patience and precision. "Every connection must be made with love,' she instructed. "Because it will stay with you forever." Her hands trembled more as the night wore on, but she insisted on continuing. Sweat beaded on her palms despite the cool air. "Mom, are you feeling alright? We could finish tomorrow?" She shook her head firmly. "No, tonight. I want to watch you complete it yourself." By 3 AM, we'd finished. The sapphire gleamed in its new setting, more beautiful than any store-bought jewelry. "Tomorrow on your birthday, I'll officially give this to you." Mom's eyes sparkled with exhaustion and satisfaction. "For now, this is our little secret." December 21st. My fifteenth birthday. I woke to snow covering the world outside. Mom was already in the kitchen wearing her prettiest yellow dress, though thick foundation couldn't quite hide her palior. "Mom, you look so beautiful today! But… your eyes are a little red?" "Probably stayed up too late last night, but it was worth it!" She forced brightness into her voice. *The breakfast table overflowed with my favorites: blueberry muffins, strawberry jam, hot chocolate. Dad appeared to help, his eyes filled with worry he tried to hide. "Thank you," Mom whispered to him, 'for making today perfect." We spent the morning decorating the living room. Mom insisted on hanging every streamer herself. When she stretched to reach a high spot, dizziness made her sway. Dad rushed to steady her. 'I can do it," she pushed him away gently. "Today is Sable's special day." She took photos constantly, checking each one obsessively. "My Sable bug, smile again! Mom wants to capture all your beautiful moments!" "Mom, you've taken a hundred pictures already!" Something sad flickered in her eyes before she masked it. "Never too many, my treasure." That evening, snow fell heavier as we gathered by the fireplace. Orange flames painted our faces with warmth. Mom brought out last night's creation with ceremony. Her hands trembled as she held the necklace. "Sable, this necklace now carries both our heartbeats. Whenever you wear it, you'll feel Mom's love… no matter where Mom is." "Mom, why are you talking so strangely? Like you're saying goodbye?" 2/3 She forced a smile. Silly child, Mom's just too emotional. Come, let me put it on you." Her hands shook so badly the sapphire nearly dropped. Dad silently reached out to help. We hugged as a family, Mom closing her eyes like she was burning the moment into her soul. Dinner was Mom's masterpiece: roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, my favorite pasta. She insisted on cooking everything herself. "Drink more soup, she urged while serving me. "You've gotten too thin lately." "Mom, I'm fifteen now, not a little kid!" Tears welled in her eyes. "In Mom's heart, you'll always be my baby." She gripped my hand tightly. "Sable, promise Mom something. No matter what difficulties you face in the future, always stay strong and kind, okay?" "Mom, you're talking really weird today… are you hiding something from me?" "Nothing, Mom just… just wants you to remember this birthday, remember every moment we spend together." The knife slipped from Mom's hand as she tried to cut my birthday cake. It clattered against the plate with a sharp ring. She bent to pick it up, but violent tremors shook her body. Cold sweat soaked through her dress. "Isabella?" Dad's voice filled with panic. "What's wrong?"