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Claire worked long hours at a diner, sometimes pulling double shifts. I remember her hands, always red from scrubbing dishes, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. And yet, every night, she smiled when she saw me studying late.
I studied relentlessly, convinced education was my way out. Unlike Claire, I went to college. Unlike Claire, I was allowed to dream beyond survival. She never complained. Never asked for gratitude. She simply carried the weight of both our lives so I could rise above it.
Years passed. I became a doctor.