The Next Right Thing

Maerilee

I’m a broken shell of myself, held together only by Permiton’s gentle embrace. My mother, still lying pale and motionless on the bed, is slipping away. Her chest rises and falls so faintly that, at times, I can barely tell if she’s breathing. I squeeze her hand, willing her to hold on, to give me some sign that she can hear me, that she’s still fighting. But there’s nothing.

Someone sends for my father while the four of us wait in the room.

“Maerilee,” Permiton says, his voice quiet but firm, drawing my attention away from my mother’s lifeless form. His eyes are unfocused again, and I know he’s seeing something beyond our reach. “The poison wasn’t meant to kill her outright.”

I frown, barely able to comprehend what he’s saying.

“What do you mean?”

He takes a deep breath, meeting my ……