His Choice Wasn't Me
she began, lifting the picture slightly, her eyes still fixed on it, “…this is my mother.”
Sarah’s gaze dropped to the image in her hand.
A woman.
Simple, warm, gentle-looking even in a still frame.
“She was… everything I had,” Aisha continued, her voice trembling slightly now. “Everything.”
Daniel swallowed quietly, his chest tightening at the sound of her voice.
“She got sick,” Aisha went on, her words coming slowly, like each one carried weight. “Very sick. Cancer.”
The word lingered in the air.
Sarah’s expression softened, her eyes reflecting understanding even before Aisha finished.