Tangled

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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..

from the amount of oxygen I take in and I hold it for ten seconds before letting it go in

I can do this.

a final glance at Selene and Vanessa, I push open the door

machines and a faint hiss coming from somewhere

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

as a summer lake or as frigid as a winter sky,

like she's dead

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The Mom

slowly, my footsteps echoing in the stillness. Selene follows close behind, her presence a constant comfort. I reach out and take my

lifeless

my voice cracking with

no flicker of recognition. I swallow

I hate her.

I hate this woman.

her with the fierceness of a

it would hurt this much. had I

that she was fighting for her life from the wolfsbane, was so much easier than

It's okay

a chair up to the side of my mother's hospital bed. Plastic scrapes against the linoleum floor, harsh in the

to see how far

mother's eyes follow me, tracking my movements with an unsettling intensity. Despite the dullness in her gaze, there's a flicker of something there-a spark of recognition,

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the fierce woman

a whisper. The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with

long moment, my mother says nothing. She simply stares at me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she lifts a hand from the bed, the

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

A

to pull away from her touch, but

Her fingers draw closer.

this the

run rampant-hope, fear, longing, and a desperate, aching need for acceptance. For a single, shining moment, I allow myself to believe that this is it. That my mother is finally going

left in the past,

I lean into the touch, my eyes fluttering

person, but the impact is no less devastating. My eyes fly open, and

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my check stinging more from