As Agatha opened her eyes, black dots invaded her vision. She could hear her mother's voice, but she couldn't comprehend anything because of the ringing in her ears. A warm hand rested over hers. That simple touch made her feel like a child again.
After a long time that seemed like ages, the muffled sounds gave way to words carrying meaning. Agatha tried to raise and prop her torso onto her elbows. But the hand moved over her shoulder, making her fall back onto the pillow.
"Easy now, your back is bruised after that fall. Lie down and rest a little longer." Her mother's voice resembled a summer breeze, the same way it did when she was a little girl. Authoritative yet kind, assertive yet gentle.
Licking her dry lips, Agatha felt the cracks formed from dehydration. She tried to speak, but no words came out. Her back hurt when she took a deeper breath. The vision cleared upon a clay mug of water, which she drank without thinking twice.
