Chapter 10BEATRICE JORDAN WAS a dignified woman who stood no taller than Luella and yet somehow managed to loom over her son’s hospital bed like a shadow. She wore a knit sweater, coral in colour, and green woolen trousers. Her skin seemed more grey than brown, no doubt owing to the withholding of tears in favour of stoic hopefulness. Lack of sleep likely played its part as well.
Luella concentrated her focus on the mother because looking at the son was just too tragic. All those tubes, that swollen face. He looked quite monstrous, and yet young. Much younger than his nineteen years.
Dante Jordan was the same age as his late girlfriend, Grace Tangoco.
“It was love at first sight,” Beatrice Jordan said, gazing adoringly at her son. “He came home after school and said: ‘Mama, I m
