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“How is she?” It’s impossible not to notice that Paisley’s mother has shed even more weight and that her skin has lost what little color it had.
“No better, no worse.” Tamara’s gaze is soft as it rests on the bed. “Paisley got her to eat a little bit of rice for dinner.”
“Did Paisley eat?” I step to her side and run the backs of my fingers along her cheek, keeping my touch gentle so I don’t risk waking her.
Tamara sighs. “Not much.” She pulls a length of yarn loose from the bundle tucked beside her. “It breaks my heart to watch how much they’re both suffering.”
“I understand.” I’ve never felt more helpless in my life than I have this past week.
I’ve tried everything I can think of to ease Paisley’s pain, but when it comes down to it there’s nothing I can do.
I can’t protect her from the loss of her mother.
But I was able to right the wrong that gave her false hope.
Hopefully that will bring her some peace.
