Unfinished Longing in the Shadow of Cedars

Ava retreated into the sterile, antiseptic-scented hospital room, her steps heavy, her mind still churning like a storm-tossed lake. The echoes of her earlier, fraught conversations clung to her like a damp, clinging fog. Susan, ever the sharp-eyed matriarch, noticed the stark pallor of her face, the way her shoulders seemed to sag. "Sweetheart, you look like you've seen a ghost walk right out of a Civil War battlefield. What's eating you up?"