Her eyes fluttered open. “Mom?”
The word was small, sleepy. It always made my chest ache since I couldn't risk answering that name. “You should rest,” I said softly.
“Will you stay?”
“Not tonight,” I said. “But you’ll have people with you. They’ll take good care of you.”
“Will a new doctor come?”
“Yes,” I said carefully. “He’ll be watching you for a while. But remember what I told you—never be afraid to speak up if you feel something is wrong.”
She nodded, her eyes heavy. “You’ll still come back, right?”
“Always.”
She smiled faintly and closed her eyes again. I sat there longer than I should have, watching her sleep, listening to her breath. The small beeping sound from the monitor calmed me. She was safe and I intended to keep it that way.
When I finally left the ward, the sky ou
