Five years after Clara lost her son Robert, the college fund created for him before birth remains untouched—a quiet monument to love, hope, and dreams that never got to bloom. Robert, a boy who once traced constellations and dreamed of reaching Pluto, had a future built on belief.
His grandparents started the fund with a gesture of faith, and Clara and her husband Martin nurtured it over the years, adding to it with every bonus, birthday, and spare dollar.
At a family dinner, Clara’s sister-in-law Amber shattered the fragile peace by demanding the fund be given to her own son, Steven. Her justification? Clara’s age and infertility meant the money was “wasted.” The room fell silent until Jay, Clara’s father-in-law, revealed Amber had already squandered Steven’s original college fund on a Disney trip. He reminded everyone that Robert’s fund wasn’t a handout—it was a legacy.
Clara, steady with grief and grace, refused. She explained that the fund wasn’t just money—it was the echo of her son’s laughter, the weight of every dream he dared to speak. Giving it away would feel like erasing him all over again.
Amber left in anger, later sending bitter messages. Clara didn’t respond. That night, she sat in Robert’s room, telescope in hand, remembering the boy who once believed he could reach the stars. Martin joined her in silence. The fund would remain untouched—not out of spite, but because it still holds a boy’s dreams.
