The moment Caroline walked inside, her knees nearly gave out.

Grace lay curled on the white sheet, face pale, breaths quick and uneven. Her eyes were wide, shimmering with tears that clung to her lashes.

But it wasn’t her daughter’s fear that made Caroline’s stomach drop — it was the stack of paperwork sitting on the tray beside the bed.

A medical consent form.
Already signed.
Her sister’s name — not hers — scribbled at the bottom.

Caroline stared at it, feeling something inside her twist painfully.

“Mom…” Grace whispered, voice trembling. “They told me you were too busy to come.”