I looked around as best I could. There was another bed in the room. It was occupied, but I couldn't make out who was in it. There were too many machines in the way and the person appeared to have as many tubes and wires attached to them as I did. Mom was sitting in the chair I had the memory of from before. Her eyes were closed and she looked drawn and worn. My beautiful little mother, sleeping in a chair in a hospital room nearly made me cry. I tried to say something, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. Her eyes snapped open and she leaped to her feet, hurrying to the side of my bed.
"Livingston, are you awake, sweetheart?" she asked, concern written in her warm brown eyes.
I croaked again. Well, this wasn't going as well as I'd hoped. My throat was as dry as a thousand year old m
