Sunday.

The whole hospital was quiet, except for the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint creaking of the nurse cart wheels along the hallway. I sat beside Mom’s bed, holding her hand— a bit cold, but still alive with the warmth of my hope.

And of course, Terrence refused to be left behind. Earlier, he had his hand on my shoulder as we walked in, like a bodyguard who wouldn’t let me go even for a second.

“What if Mom wakes up and I’m not here beside her?” he had ...