The door clicks shut behind Nurse Paula and the room feels thinner without her. Like she carried with her some warmth I didn't realize I needed until it's gone. Dr. Ronald is still sitting across from me, his pen tapping lightly against his desk, the rhythmic sound oddly loud in the silence.
He explains my mom's condition. But my brain only focused at one sentence. Indication of schizophrenia.
I try to swallow it, but the thought sits in my throat like a shard of glass. I've read the term before, heard it thrown around casually in conversations or dramas, but hearing it in a real, sterile hospital room about my own mother—it's not just a word anymore. It's a shadow creeping into every corner of my thoughts.
