Teresa

A month had gone by, and all Milinda left me with was still that twitch of her fingers, and nothing else.

I was standing in her room, watching her as I’ve always done in the last thirty days, hoping that she’d twitch again as usual, but nothing.

“Mother,” I called, hoping she could hear me. “Please come back to me. I’d accept you the way you are.”

She didn’t move. She didn’t twitch. Her eyes remain shut.

The only proof of life was her inconsistent pulse, ...