6
Her-story
I awoke the next morning to a call on my in-room phone
“Your father won’t be visiting you today,” my mother said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What?” I turned my head, looking for my clock. It was barely seven.
“His stomach was hurting. He swallowed some pills with a glass of water, but immediately vomited into the toilet.” My mother always spoke like a nurse with no bedside manner.
My heart dropped. “Is Dad at the hospital?”
“Is that Elena?” shouted my father’s voice in the background. It was clear he was a good distance away, rushing to the phone.
My mother sighed like he’d ruined a plan. “You don’t have to visit her today.”
“Elena’s expecting me.” My father’s voice was closer, but then muffled. He seemed to have cupped his hand over the receiver. “Ali, I have some inje
