Helen sighed, eyes fixed on the children. “You wanted space,” she said quietly. “But you forgot respect along the way.” “I know,” Lisa said, her eyes brimming. “I don’t deserve you.” Helen looked at her daughter for a long moment. “You don’t have to deserve me. But you do have to remember I’m not here to be taken for granted.”
The silence between them lingered. Fragile, but no longer cold. The curtain rustled as the doctor entered. “Good news,” he said with a reassuring smile. “They’re responding to treatment. Fluids are helping. You can take them home later today.” Lisa let out a shaky breath, pressing her hands to her face. “Thank God.”