SILENCE

"Close the curtains, Quan," I said, squinting as the sunlight poured onto my face.

"A little sunlight wouldn’t hurt anyone," Quan replied, trying to keep his voice steady, even though the tension in the room was thick.

"It would hurt her." I gestured toward my mom, lying motionless on the hospice bed. The room was always dark. She insisted on it. Said she couldn’t face the sun in a world where Ali no longer existed.

I didn’t argue with her. Maybe I should have been upset about it. Maybe I was. Upset that we never talked about Dad. Upset that we never talked about Ali. Upset that she wouldn’t even acknowledge the son who was still alive. But it was her life, her choice. I had no right to be upset. Or maybe I did.

"Chester..." Quan began, his voice softer now, but I cut him off.

"Just respect her, man. It’s what she wants."

Quan frowned, his eyes flickering with frustration. "Can we talk?" He motioned toward the door. "Outside?"