Liliette, who had been kneeling on the floor, half-rose with a restless fidget. Tears welled up in her large eyes, visible through the bandages wrapped around her head.
“Mother…”
“It’s all right, Liliette. I’ll get better soon.”
Marisha’s words dissolved into a violent coughing fit, her body convulsing. When she finally caught her breath, it came in wheezing gasps as if her lungs were whistling through punctured holes.
Of course, this was no surprise. A woman suffering from a coughing sickness had run frantically while carrying a ten-year-old child. And as Nerva had predicted, Liliette had been plagued by nightmares all night, keeping Marisha from resting.
With every cough from her mother, Liliette felt her heart shatter. A burning pressure coiled in her chest, scraping against her ribs like sandpaper.
Mother shouldn’t have been running. What if she dies because of me? We can’t even come here often for treatment…
