Page 39 of One Reckless Night

I took the phone. “Hello?”

“Is this Dr. Amelia Pritchard?”

“Yes,” I said, my stomach twisting into knots.

“This is Nurse Collins from the Miami Memory Care Facility. I’m calling about your mother.”

I felt like the floor had dropped out from under me. “Is she okay?”

“She’s stable,” the nurse said, her tone reassuring. “But she’s been having a rough few days. She’s been… agitated. We thought you should know.”

I closed my eyes, my chest tight. “Thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hung up the phone. Clair was watching me, her expression filled with concern. “Amelia? What’s wrong?”

“It’s my mom. She’s not doing well.”

“Your mom? I didn’t know she was ill. I mean, you’ve never mentioned her.”

I took a deep breath. I didn’t talk about her. I didn’t talk about myself. “She’s in a long-term care facility in Miami. Advanced memory care. She… she doesn’t remember me anymore. Most of the time.”

Clair’s eyes widened, and she reached for my hand. “Amelia, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

I shook my head, my throat tight. “It’s okay. I don’t talk about it much. Moving her to the States, to Florida, was my only option. The facility is amazing. I had to fly her here and I’m not sure it was the right move. I can’t say it made things worse, but it certainly didn’t make things better. But sometimes… sometimes I feel so selfish. Like I chose my career over her.”

Clair squeezed my hand, her expression sympathetic. “You didn’t choose your career over her, Amelia. You did what you had to do. You’re taking care of her the best way you can.”

I nodded, but the guilt was still there, gnawing at me. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep her there.”

“Why?” she asked.

“The facility is expensive. Even with the insurance from Welch Labs, it’s barely enough. I’m trying to get the better insurance option, but even then it’s not going to be enough.”

Clair was quiet for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. “Why don’t you move her here? We have state-of-the-art healthcare, and there are people who could care for her. It would be closer, and you could see her more often.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. I don’t want Jared to know. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“I get it. But you’re not a burden, Amelia. You’re doing the best you can.”

I didn’t know why I was telling Clair all of this. Maybe it was because I was tired. Maybe it was because I’d been carrying this burden alone for so long that it felt good to finally share it with someone.

“My mother has been steadily declining for years,” I said. “She started showing signs of early-onset dementia. That’s why I do what I do. That’s why I’m so passionate about my research. I want to understand what happens to the brain after trauma. I want to find ways to repair it, to prevent the kind of cognitive decline my mum experienced. I know it’s too late for her, but maybe I can help others.”

Clair looked at me with a newfound understanding in her eyes. “So that’s why you’re so driven. Why you’re always in the lab. It’s not just about the science.”

I shook my head, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “No. It’s personal. It always has been.”

“What about your research? Could it help her?” Clair asked.

I laughed bitterly. “That’s the irony, isn’t it? I’m researching ways to repair neural pathways after trauma, but it’s too late for her. The damage is too extensive, and the dementia has compounded everything. I’m not going to find a cure in time to save my own mother.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Thank you.” I smiled. “I guess I just hope I can save another family. But now you know. I’m counting on you to keep my secrets, please.”

“Of course.”

“Now, I’m going home to shower and change. I think I might actually do laundry today.”