“Where is Catherine?” Victor demanded, ignoring the woman’s hostility.
“She collapsed while she was working at the restaurant and they took her to the Metropolitan General Hospital,” the neighbor replied coldly.
Annie started crying again, her small body shaking, and Victor asked nothing else.
He drove like a man possessed, ignoring every traffic light as he sped toward the hospital.
When he burst into the sterile, fluorescent-lit ward, he found Catherine sitting in a wheelchair, ghostly pale and terribly thin.
A doctor was adjusting a blanket over her shoulders, his expression grave.
Victor stopped in place, crushed by guilt, shame, and overwhelming love.
“Mom!” Annie shouted, running toward her mother.
Catherine looked up, and for one fleeting second, a smile lit her face, but it disappeared the moment she saw Victor behind the child.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice rough and empty.
“Catherine, please, I found out everything,” Victor pleaded, stepping closer.
