The afternoon shift at my house had become its own strange ritual—my broken body propped up in the hospital bed Keira had rented, monitors singing their mechanical lullabies, while my chosen family rotated through like guards protecting something too stubborn to die properly.
Trust the cook to be most in touch with reality. I don't think you can provide love in a pot every day and not know how the deal with the reality of what is actually real in your loved one's lives. My mother had that gift. Even when what she decided pissed people off, it always ended up being the right decision. Good choice, Wendy.
Another opportunity for closure. I hope she gets it.
Gut. This one hit square in the gut.
Trust the cook to be most in touch with reality. I don't think you can provide love in a pot every day and not know how the deal with the reality of what is actually real in your loved one's lives. My mother had that gift. Even when what she decided pissed people off, it always ended up being the right decision. Good choice, Wendy.
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