I walk in the door trying to make sense of why I was called to the hospital this time. My mom began her recovery 2 months ago and everything seems to be improving . With my head in a fog I walk down the empty corridor it's way pass visiting hours. Rye my moms doctor is waiting for me I've known him for my whole life sometimes I fell like he's covering something important always looking behind me as we speak. Dr . Rye what's going on? He doesn't answer me but just pushes the door open. My mom is surprising looking better . She seems to be busy reading a book, looking up she smiles at me . She looking great but it's the first time I'm seeing that scar she has on the right side of her face for the first time but it seems really old. It seems like she notices and instead of turning away she pushes her hair back behind her ear. Mom what happened to your face? She said take a seat we need to talk . I pull the chair closer to her bed and hold her hand. Ok mom tell me what's going on why call me here in the middle of the night? How are you feeling your worrying me! She taps my hand still has a forced smile, she always seems to have on for me.
I am going to tell you our story I'm sick and I'm not sure I'll be able to tell you later. She takes a deep breath in and she begins…