Moments later, all four of us stood in my stepmother's room. Paler than she'd ever been, she lay asleep in bed. Her hair, hidden behind a hairnet, and her face, devoid of makeup, told me the intensity of her deteriorating health. On a normal day, she would never wear a hairnet during the day. She would also never fail to apply layers of makeup on her face.
"She's asleep," I said.
"She's been like this since I returned from school," Cynthia said.
"She doesn't look good," Sir Aaron said. "She should be in a hospital."
"Our family doctor comes to check on her," Cynthia explained. "He administered some medication. He said as long as she doesn't think too much, doesn't overwork herself, and is well rested, she will be fine."
In that case, she would be fine soon. With my presence, she wouldn't have to think so much about the child custody request and the child abuse sentence that possibly followed. With my presence she wouldn't overwork herself. I'd resume responsibilities as the one who saw to every chore. She would be well rested. She would be just fine. I would care for her like I would my own mother.
"Victoria-?" Excitement flashed in my stepmother's half-open eyes. Watching her struggle to breathe cut through me like a sword.
"Have you really come to see me, my daughter?" Her voice had become a shadow of itself; a raspy death rattle. I didn't want this. Where was the energetic woman who would yell at me without even pausing for a breath?
"I am here." Without invitation, I sat beside her. She smiled at me. How would I respond to her kindness when I'd already acclimatized myself to the venom she spewed at me?
"My daughter," she said, barely audible. Taking my hands in hers, she went on, "I am happy you came...to...to see me. Now I-" A chesty cough fought to break her.
Sobbing, Cynthia rushed to her side. "Mummy."
"Go get water," I heard Sir Aaron whisper to either of his children.
"Now you are here," my stepmother said. "Now I can die in peace."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched her struggle for her life. I let them stream down my cheeks like rivulets. "Don't say that. You will not die."
My stepmother made to speak, but she coughed so hard, tears sprang to her eyes. "I don't know...if I will live to see the next day. And I felt...so bad...about dying without...your forgiveness. But now you are here...I am forgiven. I will die a happy woman."
Sharon strolled in with a glass of water. She handed it over to Cynthia and stepped back to view the scene from a distance. My stepmother jerked her head sideways as Cynthia moved the glass toward her. Water spilled onto the bed.
"Water is not my problem," she said.
"Mum, please-" I begged.
She turned to look at me. Her gaze softened and she allowed Cynthia feed her the water. I'd never seen her this hurt. The pain in her eyes brought to mind my mother. Had her last moment been just like this? Had she looked so much like death itself that no one could look at her without shedding a tear?
Holding my stepmother's hand, I stared into her eyes. "You will not die, mum. I will not lose my mother a second time. You will fight this and win. Please, live for us. What will we do without you? Look at Cynthia. She needs you so much. Please, don't speak about death, I beg you. Live for us."
"How can you still think of me as your mother?" she asked. "After everything I've done to you, how do you still care for me?"
"Because we are family," I said. "And family supports each other. Whatever happened is all in the past now."
"This is suicide," Sir Aaron said. "We have to get you to a hospital. There, you'll be better taken care of. I'll take you."
My stepmother's jaw tightened. Her narrowed eyes widened, and in that moment, the dying woman disappeared. In her place lay the woman I'd known all my life. "No one is taking me to a hospital. Do you know how many people die in hospitals every day? If I am to die, then it is my dying wish that I spend my last moments in my house, with my family. No less. But if it is the will of God that I live through this-" A fit of cough cut her off. She grabbed the glass of water from Cynthia and emptied it into her mouth.
Cynthia pressed down on her chest to soothe her. "Mummy, please. Calm down."
"Sir Aaron's right," I said. "You have to go to the hospital-"
"Hospital doesn't guarantee life," she said. "I will not go there."
"It's okay if you won't go," Cynthia said. "If she doesn't want to go, then let's respect her decision. The doctor comes to check on her, so it's pretty much the same thing."
"This is suicide!" Sir Aaron said. "And I will not be a part of it." His children trailed after him as he stormed out of the room.
I made to go after them, but my stepmother gripped my hand. "Stay. Stay here."