Back in the waiting room, the fluorescent lights seem harsher.
I sink into a chair, the cold, hard surface a comfort in its familiarity.
Outside, the shadows have grown long.
The sun dips lower, casting a warm glow through the windows.
Time feels both endless and fleeting.
Each tick of the clock is a reminder of what I’ve yet to face.
I try to focus on the moment, grounding myself in the present.
The nurse’s words replay in my head, but they bring no comfort.
The door remains locked, a barrier I can’t seem to breach.
My sister’s presence inside feels like a betrayal.
