Lila
My mother lay still beneath thick blankets, her breath shallow but steady now. The sharp rise and fall of panic from two days ago had eased into something fragile, but survivable. Her cheeks held a faint flush again, and the dark hollows beneath her eyes had softened slightly.
It should have been a relief. It was.
But it didn’t feel like enough.
I sat beside her bed, elbows on my knees, hands clasped like I was praying. Maybe I was. Not to any Gods, but to the wolf inside her, to the strength I knew she had and only just started to reclaim with resuming treatment.
Mom’s hand was limp in mine. I was afraid to squeeze too hard and break something, but at least it was warm. That warmth grounded me more than anything else could’ve in that moment.
I rested my cheek against our jo
