Chapter 29The hum of the machines filled the room—a constant, monotonous sound that, through repetition, had become part of the atmosphere. Gentle respirators, occasional beeps. The smell of disinfectant no longer bothered her; it was as if she had lost her sense of time and place. There was only this room. That bed. That fragile figure, still breathing with difficulty—but still breathing.Anne sat beside her mother, eyes red, hands clasped in her lap. She had been there for hours—maybe days—barely moving. She slept in short stretches, always in the same chair, her head tilted, her thoughts caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty.The woman in the bed looked smaller. Her skin paler, her eyes sunken—but alive. Alive. And that was enough. That was everything.Anne took her hand gently, as if afraid to break it."I’m here, Mom," she whispered. "I’m not going anywhere.""Anne?" Her older brother’s voice, soft, came from the doorway.She didn’t respond. She only turned her face slightly, wit
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