“Stop pretending this is more serious than it is.”
Daniel moved closer.
“Mom.”
Linda leaned over the rail.
My body instinctively recoiled.
Her eyes dropped to my abdomen beneath the blanket.
Then something strange happened.
She reached forward.
Not toward my face.
Not toward my hand.
Toward the surgical area.
For one terrible second, I didn’t understand.
Then her fingers pressed against the blanket just above my incision.
Pain exploded through me.
White.
Blinding.
I screamed.
The monitor beside me began shrieking.
Daniel grabbed his mother’s wrist.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Linda jerked backward.
“I barely touched her!”
“You touched her surgery site!”
“She’s exaggerating!”
A nurse rushed through the door.
Then another.
“What happened?”
“My mother pressed on her abdomen,” Daniel said.
“I did not!”
The second nurse moved between Linda and the bed.
“Ma’am, step outside.”
“I’m her family.”
“You need to step outside now.”
The pain came in waves.
I couldn’t breathe properly.
The room tilted.
Someone lowered the bed.
Someone checked my incision.
Daniel stood frozen near the door, staring at his mother.
Not angry anymore.
Horrified.
I think that was the exact second something inside him broke.
Not his love for her.
Something more dangerous.
His illusion of her.
Hospital security arrived.
Linda began crying.
Instantly.
Tears appeared as though someone had opened a faucet.
“I came here because I was worried about her.”
Daniel stared.
“No.”
“I was upset. I’ve had an emotional day.”
“You came here to punish her.”
“I did not.”
“You accused her of faking emergency surgery.”
“I was under stress.”
“You put your hand on her incision.”
“I didn’t know exactly where it was.”
Daniel’s voice dropped.
“But you knew she had surgery.”
Silence.
Linda looked at him.
Then something ugly flashed across her face.
“After everything I sacrificed for you, you’re going to turn against me because of her?”
Daniel flinched.
Old reflex.
Old wound.
I saw it.
Linda saw it too.
For years, that sentence had worked.
After everything I did.
After everything I sacrificed.
After your father died.
Daniel’s guilt was the leash she had held since he was seventeen.
But this time, he looked at me.
At the nurses checking my wound.
At the monitor still beeping rapidly.
Then back at his mother.
“You don’t get to use Dad’s death to control me anymore.”
Linda went perfectly still.
The room seemed to change temperature.
“What did you say?”
“You heard me.”