he followed clues to a storage unit, unlocked it, and froze. Inside were carefully wrapped gifts, labeled for each birthday year ahead. One note read: “If you’re reading this, I may not be with you anymore. I’ve been battling cancer quietly, and though I won’t always be there in person, I wanted you to feel my love every year. I hope these gifts remind you of how much,

you mean to me.” Tears streamed down Charlie’s face. Suddenly, all his envy and resentment vanished. He rushed home, broke down in his mom’s arms, and whispered the only thing that now mattered: “I don’t care about the gifts or the car. I just want you, Mom.” Alice held him close, both of them crying—grateful for every moment they still had together.