A Son's Last Lesson

"You have time to visit your mother, but you don't have time to be with your son? Do you know Timmy's still in the hospital, Brenda?" I snarled while pointing at her.

She snorted. "It's just an allergic reaction, isn't it? It's not like he hasn't been given medical attention. All children fall sick. Why is he more fragile than others? He's a boy, too. Josie doesn't fall sick at all. He only has himself to blame for being weak!"

She was Timmy's mother, yet she could say such callous words about him. She didn't care about him or pity him at all.

"Is that all you can say now that our son is in a coma?" I couldn't even bring myself to say that he would never stand before me again when he'd been so active just the day before.

Brenda snorted again. "Don't think you can fool me. I won't believe your lies. Josie already told me that she just wanted to give Timmy a pretty flower. Who would've known that an allergy that hasn't acted up in years would suddenly relapse at that moment? It's not like she did it on purpose!"

I suddenly realized that Cameron was probably the one who'd orchestrated this whole thing.

I didn't waste my breath arguing with them and sneaked the documents I needed out of the house while Brenda and Linda were distracted. I hurried back to the hospital with them.

My heart settled back in my chest as I looked at Timmy, who was still unconscious. A nurse came to adjust his IV, and she told me about the things I needed to pay attention to.

She said there was a chance of coma patients regaining consciousness, but it would take their family's care and support for that to happen. She asked about Timmy's mother.

I hardened my heart and told her his mother was dead. Rather than tell everyone that Timmy had a mother who didn't care about him at all, I would prefer it if they all thought she was dead.