08. Thomas's wife

Sitting on Thomas' imposing leather sofa in his huge, elegant mansion, I nervously looked at the fingers on my hands. They were steady now, but last night they had been shaking terribly.

Memories of the hospital flashed through my mind like a fog: the head doctor telling Carmelia and me that Mom would now be in the hospital's special ward, in palliative care. That she might not survive for more than two months. And that we'd better prepare ourselves, both emotionally and financially, for what was to follow.

Funeral and burial.

When I came out of the room where Mom was, accompanied by Carmelia, Masato was still there. He politely greeted my sister, who preferred not to ask me any questions, and offered to give us both a lift home. Carmelia refused, saying she was driving, and said goodbye, leaving us alone. However, I refused to say anything to Masato, who left me at home on a silent and uncomfortable journey.

I could barely sleep at night. But, well, there I was. Ready to get to know