Mr. Hastings Senior looked at the tear stains on my face, then at Mom, who was still lying on the hospital bed. In the end, he let out a sigh and said nothing.


    I stole a nce at him. He looked much older than thest time we met, with more gray streaking his hair.


    His gaze remained fixed on Mom''s face. It was filled with an emotion I couldn''t quite decipher-worry, guilt, or perhaps both.


    After a long silence, he finally said, "Serena, your mother has had a hard life."


    I let out a coldugh and didn''t respond.


    He didn''t finish what he wanted to say. He turned to Mom and murmured.


    I couldn''t make out everything and only caught scattered words—"Are you okay", "You shouldn''t have", and "Serena will be worried".


    But Mom didn''t look at him at all. Her empty eyes remained fixed on the ceiling as if something up there was far more interesting than him.


    I watched the two of them, especially Mr. Hastings Senior. I couldn''t tell if I felt pity or disgust. Mostly, I just felt numb.


    He spoke for a long time and finally gave up upon seeing Mom give no reaction. With a heavy sigh, he turned his gaze toward me.


    I felt awkward standing there, like an unwanted presence in the room. I took the hint and said, "I''ll go find a nurse and ask about her condition."


    Hearing my words, Mom finally shifted her gaze from the ceiling. She gave a small nod, acknowledging me.


    This was my cue to leave. They needed time alone as some things could only be said in private.


    Stepping outside the hospital room, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind.


    The strong scent of disinfectant lingered in the hallway, stinging my nose. Instead of heading straight for the nurses'' station, I went to the doctor''s office.


    Mom''s attending physician was a sharp-looking middle-aged woman with gold-rimmed sses. "Hello, doctor, I''m Nicole Burke''s daughter, Serena" I tried to keep my voice steady. "I''d like to understand my mother''s condition in more detail."


    The doctor flipped through the medical records and adjusted her sses. The patient''s condition is currently stable, but her emotional state is very fragile. She needs her family''s support and reassurance. We''re still conducting further tests, but we suspect..."


    She paused before continuing in a professional tone, "It''s a psychogenic illness, possibly triggered by emotional distress."


    "Emotional distress?" I repeated her words with a sinking feeling forming in my chest. I had a guess.


    We discussed a few more details, mostly about Mom''s care and recovery process. I forced myself to stay focused, nodding asionally.


    I checked the time and figured Mr. Hastings Senior should have said everything he needed to by now, so I asked, "Doctor, could you check on my mother now? I''d also like a full medical report by tomorrow."


    The doctor closed the file and nodded. "Of course. Let''s go."


    At the hospital room door, I knocked lightly before leading the doctor inside.


    Mr. Hastings Senior was still sitting by Mom''s bedside, holding her hand and


    murmuring endlessly. I had never seen him talk this much before.


    I walked over to Mom and reassured her, "The doctor is here to check on you. I''ll


    step outside with Mr. Hastings Senior for a moment."


    Mom''s expression didn''t change. She only nodded.