I never imagined that the day I left the hospital would become the turning point of my entire life. That Monday morning, I stood at the entrance with my arm still wrapped in bandages and a dull ache running through my side. I kept checking my phone, hoping to see a message from my son. Fourteen missed calls from him before the accident, several texts, and then… nothing. No return call, no reply.
At first, I tried to stay calm. Maybe he was delayed, or stuck somewhere without his phone. Maybe life had simply tangled him up for a moment, the way it sometimes does.
But when the nurse came by the third time, gently offering to help me call a taxi, the truth settled over me like a heavy blanket. He wasn’t coming.
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