The son called only to ask one thing: was his mother still alive? He wanted her apartment — and nothing more.

Every evening, the elderly woman looked out the window as if she were waiting for someone. Sometimes she thought we didn’t notice and cried quietly.

I checked on her several times during the night, just to talk a little, so she wouldn’t feel so alone. But the poor woman’s heart — exhausted from pain and waiting — eventually couldn’t hold on any longer.

That night, only the head doctor and I were by her side. The grandmother sighed faintly, tried to say something, and then whispered weakly:

— And… my son… he still hasn’t come?..