A Sudden Visitor

The hospital room was quiet, save for the steady, mechanical rhythm of the heart monitor. It blinked in time with the frail breaths of the woman lying motionless on the bed. The fluorescent lights above bathed everything in a sterile white hue, but no amount of light could melt the chill in the air.

Luna sat in her usual chair by the side of the bed, hunched slightly forward, her fingers curling loosely around her phone. Her thumb hovered above the screen, aimlessly scrolling, but her eyes weren’t really looking at it. Every few seconds, her gaze drifted toward her grandmother. She was still breathing, slowly, softly, but each breath felt like it might be the last. Luna couldn’t look away for long.

Across from her, her uncle sat by the window. The blinds were open just a crack, letting in the cold light of an overcast afternoon. His arms were folded, his gaze lost in the view outside, though it was clear his mind wasn’t really on the buildings or the trees. He hadn’t said much since they arrived that morning, just occasional sighs, some murmured answers when the nurses came in. His phone buzzed on the table, but he didn’t pick it up.

Then came the sound.

The door creaked open, then banged loudly against the stopper. Both Luna and her uncle jumped slightly in their seats.

A tall woman stepped in, the echo of her heels clicking against the tiles. She wore a flamboyant crimson coat with fur trim, oversized sunglasses perched on her head even though there was no sun indoors. Her jewelry jingled with every step, and her sharp perfume hit the room like an announcement.

“Aunt Carol,” Luna muttered under her breath, already bracing herself.

Carol didn’t bother with greetings. Her eyes made a lazy sweep of the room, pausing on the still figure in the bed before rolling in bored annoyance. “She isn't dead yet,” she said, her voice almost bored. Confused, even.

Luna snapped her head toward her. “That’s not how a daughter should talk about her gravely ill mother,” she said, rising from her seat. Her voice held a sharp edge she didn’t bother hiding.

Carol rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please,” she waved a perfectly manicured hand. “I’m not the only one who’s been wishing her peace. Or are we pretending now?”

Luna’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Peace doesn’t mean death, Carol.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Carol said, walking closer, heels clacking with each step. “You’re all sitting here like a bunch of idiots anyway.”

“You don’t even visit unless it’s convenient for you.” Luna’s voice was rising now, her tone tight. “So don’t you dare talk like you care.”

“I do care,” Carol said mockingly. “I care about how long we’re going to keep pretending she’ll get better.”

“That’s enough,” her uncle said suddenly, voice firm. He stood, placing a hand on Luna’s shoulder before stepping between them. “We’re not doing this. Not here.”

Carol huffed but took a step back, brushing imaginary dust off her coat. “Fine. Waste your time. I’ve said what I needed to.”

She turned on her heel and walked out, heels clicking all the way down the corridor until the sound faded completely.

Luna slowly sat back down, dragging her fingers through her hair and letting out a shaky breath. “What a terrible woman…” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Her uncle gave her a small, tired smile. "Your grandma always said, "You can’t choose anyone, but you can choose how much they ruin your day."

Luna laughed under her breath, but it quickly faded. Her eyes found her grandmother again, watching her carefully, as if afraid she might miss a breath.

"Do you think she left everything sorted?" she asked quietly.

Paul hesitated. "She talked about it. But your grandmother always kept things close to her chest. Didn’t want to burden anyone."

Luna’s brows drew together. "But if Carol tries to contest something--"

"She’ll try," he said. "But I don’t think your grandmother would’ve left room for that. She knew who cared."

Luna nodded slightly.

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