41.

I was there again.

In the room, watching that woman fight with my mum.

They were angry. The woman botched face could not even frown. Her frown deep as she pushed my mother against the shoulder.

The atmosphere was filled with tension, their angry words shaking the house at twelve midnight.

“You tried to poison me!” my mother’s voice wavered, but she stood her ground, her eyes wild with anger and something else. Sadness and desperation.

Fear.

The woman scoffed, arms folded across her chest. “You’re delusional.”

“I know what I saw.” My mother’s hands clenched into fists. “You switched my medication. I almost died.”

A slow smirk curled on the woman’s lips. “And yet, here you are. Pathetic.”

I was just a child, standing frozen near the door, my tiny fingers gripping the edge of my dress. I didn’t understand everything, but I understood enough.

I understood that my mother was in pain.

I understood that this woman—this other woman—was the reason for it.

“You ruined