Weekends had a way of moving by really fast. For Charlotte, they didn’t bring rest so much as they brought reminders.The hospital sat at the edge of the city, tall and pale, its walls permanently smelling of antiseptic and waiting. Charlotte had memorized the route there long ago. Every turn, every traffic light, every crack in the pavement outside the gate felt familiar in a way she wished it didn’t. She signed in at the front desk, her movements automatic, her expression carefully neutral. It was easier that way.Her mother’s room was the same as always; curtains drawn halfway, machines humming softly, the faint beep of a monitor keeping time like a restrained heartbeat. Mrs. George lay propped against white pillows, thinner than she used to be, her once-strong hands resting limply on the blanket. She looked asleep, but Charlotte knew better. Her mother was always hovering in that in-between state now, half-awake, half-fading.Charlotte set her bag down quietly and crossed the room
Read more