THE FEAR OF A DESPERSTE MOTHER

As Ayana sat vigilantly by her daughter's hospital bed, a myriad of fears gnawed at her heart like insatiable beasts. She watched Lyana's peaceful face, now marred by bandages and bruises, and felt a surge of anguish unlike any she had ever known.

Fear gripped her tightly, its icy tendrils winding around her chest and squeezing with relentless force. She feared for Lyana's health, for the extent of her injuries, and for the uncertainty of what lay ahead. Would she recover fully? Would she be able to live her life without lingering pain or trauma?

But beneath the surface of these immediate worries lurked deeper, darker fears—the kind that whispered in the shadows of her mind when the lights were dimmed and the room was silent. Ayana feared for her daughter's future, for the dreams and aspirations that now hung precariously in the balance.

Just then, the doctor walked in with Robby, who had not left Ayana’s side, and Ayana sprung to her feet to meet them as she wiped more tears; her eye