Tangled

162

162

162 Ava: Mom (II)

As we enter the hospital, the sterile scent of disinfectant and the hushed whispers of staff and visitors envelop us. Selene, ever attuned to my emotions, presses against my leg, offering her silent support. I reac

A few steps in, a security guard takes notice of Selene and frowns. "I'm sorry, but dogs aren't allowed inside the hospital premises."

Vanessa steps forward, her voice calm and authoritative. "This is a service dog. She's with us."

The guard glances at me, then at our bodyguards-

dressed in suits, with sunglasses, and essentially a walking cliche. His expression turns guarded and he waves us on. "Of course, my apologies. Please go ahead."

Relieved, I glance down at Selene, only to find her prancing alongside me, head high. Hey, you know service dogs aren't supposed to strut like show dogs, right?

She huffs, but stops her front-leg flicking prance.

Vanessa seems to know where to go as she navigates the maze of

corridors and several random sets of elevators.

With each step, the knot in my stomach tightens, anticipation and dread intertwined. Grateful for Vanessa's presence, I follow behind, digging my fingers into Selene's fur for comfort. Remember, she can't do anything to you, Selene whispers in my head.

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182 Ava Momin

The door to my mother's room is as mundane as any other. Brown. Silver handle. A note on the door asking to contact the nurse

before drawing labs.

Nothing that says a terrible person resides within and to beware of your heart.

My hand hovers over the handle as my heart beats loudly in my ears. Vanessa places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

"Remember, Ava," she murmurs into my ear, "you are in control now. Your mother's power over you exists only in the past. You are stronger than you know."

Inod without glancing at her, closing my eyes and drawing in a deep, slow breath..

amount of oxygen I take in and I hold

I can do this.

at Selene and Vanessa,

dimly lit, the beeping of machines and

her once-vibrant features pale and drawn. The sight of her, so vulnerable and fragile, sends a pang of

lake or

like she's

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The Mom

the bed slowly, my footsteps echoing in the stillness. Selene follows close behind, her presence a constant comfort. I

and lifeless

cracking with

swallow hard, fighting back

I hate her.

I hate this woman.

yet I love her with

wonder if it would hurt this

existence, ignoring the fact that she was fighting for her life

okay, Ava. It's okay to

against the linoleum floor, harsh in the stillness of the room. Settling into it, I clasp

how far her

Despite the dullness in her gaze, there's a flicker of something there-a spark of recognition, perhaps,

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of the fierce woman I once

The question hangs in the air between

her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she

her emaciated hand reaches out towards my face. It's a surreal moment, one that seems to stretch

A

but another

Her fingers draw closer.

the moment I've

acceptance. For a single, shining moment, I allow myself to believe that this is it. That my mother is finally going to show

is left in the past, and in the future

lean into the touch, my eyes fluttering closed. But then, in a sudden, jarring motion, she

the force and power of a healthy person, but the impact is no less

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in shock, my check stinging more from the emotional blow than