When Ondine arrived at the hospital, she overheard her mother, Yvaine, speaking to someone in the room. “Mr. Jefferson, I’ve reviewed the living will. Everything looks correct.”
A man’s voice replied, “Excellent. I’ll just need your signature right here.”
Ondine pushed the door open. Inside, besides Yvaine, were a middle-aged man in a sharp suit and a young man about her age.
“A will? What will?” Ondine looked at Yvaine, her shock laced with pain. “Mom, you had a lawyer draw up a will?”
Why would her mother do this behind her back? Did she think she wasn't going to get better? The thought was a sharp pang in Ondine’s chest.
Yvaine avoided her gaze. “Ondine, honey, I’m just trying to protect your future.”
Tears welled in Ondine’s eyes. “Mom, you’re going to be fine,” she choked out. “You’re going to beat this.”
“Ms. Sterling, we’ll take our leave now,” the lawyer said.
“Wait,” Ondine said, turning to him. “Mr. Jefferson, can I see it?”
Mr. Jefferson glanced at Yvaine for permission.
“Ondine, not now,” Yvaine said quickly. “You’ll see it when… when the time comes.”
“Why can’t I see it now?” Ondine pleaded.
“You’ll understand later.” Yvaine gave Mr. Jefferson a look, and he and his assistant promptly left.
“Ondine, have you eaten?” Yvaine asked, changing the subject.
Seeing that her mom didn’t want to discuss it further, Ondine didn’t press.
“I have,” she replied.
“You haven’t been sleeping well, have you? You have dark circles under your eyes.” Yvaine looked at her daughter with aching tenderness, reaching out a frail, bony hand to gently caress her face.


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