Rotten fruit 1

ISAAC'S POV

I sat by Mom's bed, holding her fragile hand in mine. The steady beep of the machines surrounding her was the only sound in the room. I couldn't bear to look at her face, so pale and drawn, so I focused on our intertwined fingers instead.

"I just wanted you to get better, Mom," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I was ready to give it all up, everything, if it meant you'd be okay."

The words hung in the air, unanswered. I don't know what I expected - for her to suddenly wake up and tell me everything would be alright? But she remained still, her chest rising and falling in a slow, mechanical rhythm.

A gentle knock on the door broke the silence. I looked up to see a nurse standing in the doorway, her expression sympathetic.

"Mr. Rossi? The resident psychiatrist would like to see you now, if you're ready."