The Missing Piece

Chapter 1: The Love That Remains

From the moment she could remember, seven-year-old Lily had always felt like something was missing in her life. Her friends talked about their dads--how they played catch, went on trips, and told silly jokes.

But for Lily, there was no fatherly love. She had never met her dad. Her mother, Claire, would sometimes smile softly when Lily asked about him, but her smile was always followed by sadness and she would change the subject.

For Lily, her mother was everything. Claire was her protector, her best friend, and the only parent she had ever known. 

Their small, cozy apartment was filled with warmth despite their modest means. Claire worked hard, juggling two jobs to support them, but she always made time for Lily.

 She was the kind of mother who would sit at the edge of Lily's bed every night, telling stories of princesses, all of Lily's questions and feelings of incompleteness seemed to melt away.

But things started to change a year before that terrible day. Claire began coughing-a deep, rattling sound that frightened Lily, though her mother always brushed it off. Claire had been diagnosed with heart disease when Lily was a baby, but she had never let it show. She remained strong, even when her body was betraying her. The late-night hospital visits became more frequent, and the exhaustion in Claire's eyes grew deeper.

Lily didn't understand why her mother had to be far away so much. She hated the terrible smell of hospitals and the cold, impersonal way the doctors spoke. Claire would say, brushing back Lily's hair, "I'll be fine."

But Lily wasn't sure. Every time her mother went into the hospital, Lily felt a gnawing fear that she might not come back. That fear became a reality on a warm spring day, May 2, 2022. It started like any other day, with birds chirping outside the window and the sunlight streaming through their worn curtains. Claire had been in the hospital for two days, and Lily stayed with her grandmother during those times. She remembered that morning so clearly-the way her grandmother's hands trembled as they made breakfast, the tight smile she wore that didn't reach her eyes.

Then came the phone call.

Lily didn't need to hear the words to know what had happened. She could tell by the way her grandmother's face crumpled, by the sound of her sharp intake of breath as she covered her mouth with one shaking hand.

And suddenly, Lily knew. Her mother was gone. The world felt like it had stopped spinning for Lily. Everything she had known-every laugh, every bedtime story, every hug-was now a memory.

She couldn't believe that her mother, the one person who had always been there, wasn't coming back. There would be no more stories, no more kisses goodnight, no more whispered reassurances that everything would be okay.

The days that followed were a blur. The funeral came and went, with adults whispering how unfair it was, how young Claire had been. Lily hated those whispers.

They made it feel like her mother's life was something to be pitied, rather than celebrated. Her grandmother moved into their apartment to take care of her. She was kind, loving, but it wasn't the same. There was still a gap in Lily's heart that nothing seemed to fill.

She would lie in the bed at night, staring at the ceiling feeling like she was floating in the world where nothing made sense.

 Sometimes, she could still hear her mother's voice telling her stories, feel her soft hands tucking the blanket under her chin. 

But when she reached out, there was nothing but empty air. And then there was the missing piece she and never knew-her father. Lily wondered if he would come back, if he had known her mother was sick. She wondered why he left in the first place, leaving Claire to raise her all her own.