The waiting room had gotten quieter as the hours dragged on.
Mr. Sun and the others had already left, but they'd left the flowers and fruit baskets stacked neatly along the corner table.
Alia had eaten dinner hours ago and was already asleep. We'd dropped her off in the pediatric wing, where the nurses promised to keep an eye on her. I had to stop myself from visiting her every moment, because seeing her curled up with her little stuffed panda made me too emotional. So I left quietly.
It had been five hours since Mom's surgery started.
Five hours of watching the same hallway, the same set of double doors that stayed shut.
Five hours of staring at the red "INOPERATION" light above the double doors.
June and Marcus had been keeping me company…. trying to keep the conversation light, asking me random questions, offering snacks I didn't want. I appreciated it, even though my brain wasn't processing half of what they said.
