Chapter 781

The doctor handed me a tiny bottle. “This is the medication they used. Mr. Yule gave it to Mrs. Yule first… then took it himself.”

My hands tightened around the bottle as I read the label, my throat like sandpaper. “They must’ve been in so much pain to make a choice like that,” I whispered.

Uncle Damien had hinted at something like this before, but I thought it was just a “what-if” plan. Never in a million years did I think he’d actually go through with it. The idea of him sparing Aunt Abby from suffering and then following her… It didn’t feel real.

“This is the letter Mr. Yule left for you,” the doctor added, offering me an envelope.

I unfolded it, my heart sinking as Uncle Damien’s handwriting filled my vision:

Rea,

I’m sorry I can’t stay to take care of you anymore. Ever since Narelle passed, I decided this would be the way I’d go. Abby and I agreed—it was what we wanted.

Please don’t be sad, and don’t think I’m selfish. I just couldn’t stay in this world any longer. Abby and I are going to see Narelle.

Having you in my life these past days meant everything. But I couldn’t let go of my daughter. I had to be with her.

After we’re gone, don’t blame the hospital or anyone else. Cremate us and bury our ashes with Narelle’s, so the three of us can finally be together.

You were the only family we had left, Rea. That’s why everything—our home, our possessions—it’s all yours now. I know you don’t care about stuff like that, so if you don’t need it, maybe donate it to someone who does!

If there’s a next life, I hope our family gets another chance—together, happy, and whole.

Love,

Uncle Damien

By the time I finished reading, tears blurred the words, dripping onto the paper and smudging the ink. But crying wouldn’t change anything.

I followed Uncle Damien’s wishes. I had him and Aunt Abby cremated and buried their ashes with Narelle’s.

The day of the burial was unreal—perfectly blue skies, a soft, warm breeze, and sunlight that felt like a hug. It was like the universe was celebrating their reunion.

Not every death leaves regrets, I realized. Some bring peace.

“Uncle Damien, Aunt Abby, Narelle… I hope you’re happy together forever,” I whispered before walking away.

I didn’t keep a cent of Uncle Damien’s inheritance. Instead, I donated everything and started a foundation in Narelle’s name to help people who couldn’t afford medical care.

When Lena called, I was wrapping up the foundation’s paperwork.

“Rea, Nate’s leaving the day after tomorrow,” she said. “He wanted me to remind you to schedule your Aunt Abby’s surgery for tomorrow.”

I looked up at the impossibly blue sky, clouds fluffy and unreal, like a painting. “There’s no need,” I said softly.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“They’re gone,” I said. “They’re somewhere better now. Somewhere without sickness. A place where they can finally be whole again.”

“What? Rea, I don’t get it.”

Since Uncle Damien and Aunt Abby passed, a heavy ache had settled in my chest. I took a breath, steadying myself. “Uncle Damien and Aunt Abby left this world together, hand in hand. They were happy.”

She was silent for a long time.

“It’s okay,” I added, my tone calm. “I saw it myself. They looked… peaceful. Together.”

“Was it because of Aunt Abby’s illness?” she finally asked.

That was part of it. Uncle Damien couldn’t stand to watch her suffer. But I didn’t say that out loud.

Lena sighed. “If only Nate wasn’t so busy…”