At 2 in the morning the emergency room door crept open and a man in a long white coat came around the corner.
“Are you Cindy’s daughter?”
“Yes is she okay,” Lyla replied with an exhausted look in her eyes.
“For the moment she's in stable condition, but she is going to have to stay here for a while until she is cleared. Would you like to see her?”
The two walked side by side down a long hallway. Lyla took short strides and even shorter breathes. The walk to room 504 seemed like an eternity.
The doctor stopped in front of the door and pushed it open, letting in Lyla first. She tried to be quiet as she approached the hospital bed. Cindy's face was barely visible underneath the clean checkered gauze, but Lyla could tell her mom was unaware that she was there. She was unable to hold back her cry as she sat down next to her mom.
Lyla's eyes were staring at the floor when she noticed movement next to her and looked up to her mother's hand reaching out. Lyla grabbed Cindy's hand, and as the tears spilled down her face she said, “I will see you at Thanksgiving.”
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