My mother, usually the quieter of the two, moved to my bedside with a calm determination that was both reassuring and unsettling. Her piercing gaze softened slightly, and she reached into her purse, pulling out a small, neatly folded piece of paper. She handed it to my father, who looked at it with confusion before passing it to me.
Naturally, curiosity overtook my fear, and I unfolded the paper with trembling hands. It was a printed email, dated just yesterday. As I read the words, my heart sank and soared simultaneously—an impossible contradiction of emotions.
The email was from my sister, Katie. It was a heartfelt message, expressing her love and concern for me. She wrote about how devastated she felt about the accident and how much she wished I could attend her wedding. But more than that, she pleaded with my parents to let me recover in peace. To prioritize my health over any wedding plans. It was a request full of understanding, love, and acceptance.
