Unlike the hallways down below that smell like disinfectant and plastic flowers, this one smells fresh and delicate—like lavender.
I don't realize I've been holding my breath until I reach the door to my mom's room, my hand hesitating on the handle as I brace myself for the impact of what I'm about to witness—if what Merida and Doctor Blackstone told me is real. He said I could come here alone, that he was done with his checkup for the day and it was okay for me to be alone with my mom, as if he was sure this was going to be an impactful moment for me.
He was right. It is impactful, my hands are literally shaking just from the idea of seeing my mother's eyes open. I've waited for this moment for what feels like an eternity and now that it's happening, it feels too unreal.
Finally, I push the door open quietly, eyes half closed as I brace myself for the worst, but what is waiting for me on the other side of the room is better. Perfect even.
