Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO NEVER STOPPED WAITING
The ambulance arrived in seven minutes.
They were the longest seven minutes of my life.
I sat on the floor beside Nora while the dispatcher guided us through what to do. Rachel kept Maisie nearby, wrapped in a blanket.
The little girl didn't cry.
She watched her mother with the same frightening concentration I'd seen on the sidewalk.
“Is Mommy going to heaven?” she asked.
I looked at her.
“No one knows that, sweetheart. The doctors are coming to help her.”
She nodded.
Then whispered, “She promised she wouldn't leave.”
I couldn't answer.
Because I knew exactly what it felt like when someone made a promise about staying.
At the hospital, doctors discovered that Nora had a serious cardiac condition complicated by an infection and severe exhaustion.
She needed specialist care.
Further testing.
And possibly surgery.
Her medical records showed she'd missed appointments because she couldn't afford transportation and had struggled with insurance coverage after losing her job.
The attending physician spoke carefully.
“She's very ill, Mr. Cole. But we're treating the immediate complications, and we'll know more after additional tests.”
I nodded.
“What does she need?”
“Right now, rest, medication, and a thorough evaluation.”
“Arrange whatever is medically appropriate.”
The doctor studied me.
“Are you family?”
I looked through the glass toward Nora's room.
“No.”
The word hurt.
“I'm someone who should have been here a long time ago.”
Rachel returned with Maisie and a hospital social worker.
The little girl was eating crackers.
Her cheeks had regained some color.
“Mr. Ethan?”
I knelt.
“Yes?”
“Can Mommy keep her blanket?”
I smiled faintly.
“Of course.”
She held out a worn blue blanket decorated with tiny yellow stars.
“It's her favorite.”
I recognized it.
Fourteen years earlier, Nora and I had bought that blanket at a thrift store during a rainstorm.
We'd planned to use it for picnics.
I remembered her laughing as she held it over both our heads.
When we're old and ridiculous, Ethan, we'll still have this blanket.
I had forgotten the blanket existed.
Nora hadn't.
That evening, the hospital arranged for Maisie to stay temporarily with Mrs. Alvarez, the trusted neighbor Nora had listed as an emergency contact, after confirming the arrangement was appropriate.
I met Mrs. Alvarez in the hospital lobby.
She was a small woman in her sixties with silver hair and sharp, suspicious eyes.
“You're Ethan Cole?”
“Yes.”
She studied me.
Then said, “Well. You're late.”
I stared.
“Excuse me?”
“Fourteen years late.”
Rachel looked between us.
Mrs. Alvarez folded her arms.
“Nora used to say you were a good boy who got lost on the way to becoming a good man.”
I felt the words like a physical blow.
“Why didn't she contact me?”
Mrs. Alvarez's expression changed.
“She tried.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“She tried for years.”
I shook my head.
“I never heard from her.”
The older woman studied me.
Then reached into her purse.
She removed a worn envelope.
“Maybe it's time you learned why.”
Inside were photocopies of letters.
Dozens of them.
All addressed to me.
All returned.
Across the front of each envelope was the same stamped phrase.
ADDRESSEE UNKNOWN.
I stared.
The addresses were correct.
My Stanford dormitory.
My first apartment.
My company headquarters.
Someone had deliberately prevented Nora's letters from reaching me.
I looked up.
“Who did this?”
May you like
Mrs. Alvarez's face hardened.
“Ask your father.”
