CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

I stared at the flying moth that was going round and round the light bulb. “If it wasn’t ’for that boy my daughter wouldn’t be here,” my mother said from the other side of the room.

“Yeah, I sometimes wish I could see him, but the nurses said he never mentioned his name, he only dropped her near the hospital gate ,” Plot replied.

“Do you think he was one of the kidnappers?” my mother asked.

“I doubt,”

I sat upright avoiding trying to ignore their conversation. My eyes stared at the smaller dresser which was a few meters from. The broken mirror with few photographs reminded of the day she broke it. How angry she had been that day and how much she had regretted breaking it. Her leg moved out the duvet cover. She placed it in the floor. Slowly she walked toward it using the bed for balance.

Crutches were starting to ignore her. She needed to get back to her feet. She still had unfinishe