FINN
I wake up to the sound of machines attached to Mom beeping incessantly. Our private nurse quickly moves to silent it, explaining that the IV bottle needs changing. I nod and check on my mother, smiling when I see she is awake.
She smiles back, and my heart leaps with joy. I know by her look that she recognizes me.
“My son.”
I reach for her hand and place it against my cheek. “Your handsome son. How are you feeling, Mom?”
She touches my face. “You’ve really become so handsome. So strong,” her voice is raspy, tired. “Are you doing well?”
I nod. “I am. I miss you.”
She surveys her room. The needles on her arm, the nodes attached to her chest. “I wish these aren’t your last memories of me.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. Once the infection in your lung clears, we will go home. You’re
