The doctor adjusted his glasses and stepped aside before speaking, his voice low and gentle. “Are you the patient’s son?”
Daniel Gill nodded. “Yeah, I am.”
“You’re aware of her health history, right?”
Daniel felt his heart sink, the pain in his eyes impossible to hide. He forced the words out. “Yeah. I know.”
The doctor sighed when he saw Daniel’s expression. “Then I won’t sugarcoat it. At this point, there’s nothing more we can do. How many days she has—it’s up to fate now. If she has any last wishes, do your best to see them through. As her son, the best thing you can do now is spend time with her.”
The hospital saw life and death every day. The doctor was sorry, sure, but there was nothing more he could offer. He gave Daniel’s shoulder a reassuring pat, then left him alone in the hallway.
Daniel closed his eyes for a moment. His legs felt heavy as lead as he walked the short distance from the door to his mother’s room—every step seemed to weigh on his soul.
“Mr. Gill, you’re here.”
A nurse he’d hired to look after his mother, Nance Buck, greeted him quietly.
Daniel nodded. “You can take a break. I’ll stay with her awhile.”
“Yes, sir.” The nurse slipped out, leaving Daniel alone with his mother.
He sat beside the bed and looked at her. Her face was almost ghostly pale, and there was barely anything left of her—just skin and bone, hollowed out by illness. She was only 52, but looked decades older, like someone in their seventies.
Nance heard him and slowly opened her eyes. “Daniel… you came.” Her voice was so thin and raspy, he could barely catch it.


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