Chapter 35

One week later: The hospital smelled like hand sanitizer and fresh flowers. I stepped out of the elevator, smoothing the wrinkles on my blouse, trying to calm the nerves twisting in my stomach. I wasn’t here for surgery or bad news—just here to pick up my mother. And yet, it felt like I was walking into something heavy, like preparing for a fight I hadn’t trained for. She was already in the waiting lounge, sitting with her legs crossed and her handbag clutched tightly in her lap. Her eyes flicked from the wall clock to me, her lips pressed into a firm line. “You’re late,” she said as soon as I got close. “There was traffic,” I replied, keeping my voice even, not rising to her tone. I bent slightly to help her stand. She didn’t thank me, just accepted the help like it was owed. I handed her the shawl she insisted on carrying every time. It is her favorite. We walked slowly together toward the sliding glass doors. Her arm was linked through mine, her grip firmer than expected. Just befor