I woke up to the sound of my mother crying beside my bed. I slowly opened my eyes and to my relief, my stomach pains had stopped. I tried to get up, but she put me back to bed.
“You have to sleep. The doctor said you need all the sleep you can get,” she spoke.
“Is my daughter, ok?” I asked and sat up on the bed.
“She is. But you were just lucky. It was by a near miss. If you delayed even for a minute, only God knows what would have happened to you and her,” she whipped her tears—trying to stay strong for me. But I saw through her eyes. She was scared for me. Something was up. Not everything was ok.
“Mother, what happened?” I asked and moved from the backrest—moving a bit closer to where she sat.
She looked at me with the wariest expression I have ever seen her use. But she had the
