Marianne felt despair grow in her as time passed. Minutes dragged by, accumulating into hours in a slow trickle. Her impatience soared with each passing minute, as well as anger.
If her son, Graeme, wasn’t stalling she would have already met her grandson. But for some blasted reason, he was wasting precious time and offering ridiculous excuses when she knew for a fact that he was capable of finding the boy with a mere snap of his fingers.
It was maddening.
She hadn’t rested for days now, the matter plaguing her mind. Marianne stayed up most nights to talk to her son only to fall asleep and miss him anyway.
The increased lack of sleep and stress were beginning to wear her down. She knew this, yet she still kept coming back to the hospital everyday.
The morning was yet another fruit
