“Looking for me?” a voice spoke from behind her.
Meg spun around and came face-to-face with the woman she’d been following.
She was the spitting image of Meg’s mother, or at least, what she thought her mother would look like with a couple of extra decades of age added. But in Meg’s mind there was no doubt – it was her. The woman wore a flowing, sheer white gown, appearing to almost be an apparition in the dark fog. But she was no apparition. She was there, standing in front of Meg, close enough to touch. “Momma?” Meg hardly recognized her faint voice when she spoke.
“You tell me. After all, you’d have a better idea of what I look like, rather than the other way around. I’m the one who was in the coma. You could see me, any time you wanted to come visit me.” She paused, giving Meg long e
