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I Was On A Night Shift When My Husband, My Sister, And My Son Were Brought In, All Unconscious. I Ran To See Them, But A Doctor Quietly Stopped Me. “You Can’t See Them Yet,” He Said. Trembling, I Asked, “Why?” The Doctor Lowered His Eyes And Whispered, “The Police Will Explain Everything Once They Arrive.”…
Chicago winter mornings had a way of sinking into your bones, the kind of cold that lingered even under fluorescent hospital lights, and as I punched my time card at the end of another brutal night shift, all I wanted was to go home and crawl into bed beside the family I believed was still intact.
The emergency department had been relentless that night, filled with alarms, rushed footsteps, and the quiet weight of lives hanging in balance, and after ten years at Chicago General Hospital, I knew how to move through chaos without letting it touch me.
“Good work, Margaret,” Susan, the head nurse, said as she squeezed my shoulder, her voice tired but sincere, and I smiled back, thinking that competence was the one thing in my life that still felt solid.
In the locker room, I changed out of my scrubs, checked my phone, and saw James’s message about leaving early for work, asking me to take Ryan to school because Abby had been up late, and something about the casual normalcy of it made my chest feel tight.
James had been distant lately, always glued to his phone, always coming home late with vague explanations about booming real estate deals, and I told myself I was imagining things because trusting your husband was easier than facing what doubt might reveal.
At home, Ryan greeted me quietly from the kitchen, already dressed for school, his cereal untouched as he stared at his homework with a seriousness that didn’t fit his twelve years, and when I kissed his head, he leaned into me like he needed reassurance but didn’t know how to ask.
Abby’s room upstairs was empty, her bed neatly made, and although I told myself she was free to live her life after her divorce, unease settled deeper when patterns I couldn’t name began to form.
Weeks passed like that, filled with half conversations, closed doors, and the sense that everyone in my house was carrying a secret I wasn’t allowed to see, and even at work, my focus began to fracture in ways that frightened me.
When Susan quietly told me she’d seen James and Abby together at the mall, holding hands and laughing like a couple with nothing to hide, the truth slammed into me so hard I had to brace myself against the wall to stay upright.
I went through that night’s shift on autopilot, caring for strangers while my own life unraveled in my head, rehearsing confrontations I wasn’t ready to have and dreading what confirmation might destroy.
At 2:00 a.m., the code blue alarm shattered my thoughts, and moments later, my phone rang with a call I knew instinctively was wrong before I even answered it.
“Mrs. Wilson,” the voice said carefully, “your husband, your sister, and your son have been involved in an accident and are being transported to Chicago General now,” and the floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
I ran to the emergency room, my badge swinging wildly, my heart pounding louder than the monitors, and when I saw three stretchers lined up under harsh lights, my breath left me in a sob.
James lay first, bruised and still, then Abby, her face swollen and unfamiliar, and finally Ryan, so small beneath the blankets that I couldn’t reconcile the sight with the boy who’d hugged me goodbye that morning.
I tried to reach them, but Dr. Carter stepped in front of me, his expression grave, his hand firm on my arm as he stopped me cold.
“You can’t see them yet,” he said quietly, avoiding my eyes.
My voice shook as I asked why, and when he finally spoke again, lowering his gaze, his words shattered what little certainty I had left.
“The police will explain everything once they arrive.”
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PART 2
The word police echoed in my head as I stood frozen in the emergency room, staring at the people I loved most and realizing that this was no ordinary accident, no random twist of fate that could be explained away with bad weather and poor visibility.
Questions rushed through me faster than I could voice them, and every unanswered doubt from the past weeks suddenly felt deliberate, connected, and dangerous in ways I hadn’t wanted to admit.
When the officers arrived, their presence alone confirmed my worst fear, because accidents didn’t require statements, sealed evidence bags, or quiet conversations held just out of earshot.
As they began asking about James’s schedule, Abby’s recent behavior, and whether Ryan had mentioned anything unusual, I understood with sick clarity that my family hadn’t just been hiding something from me, they had been caught in something far darker.
The way the officers exchanged looks when I mentioned the affair, the way Dr. Carter stiffened when their questions turned more pointed, told me this night was only the beginning of truths I wasn’t prepared to face.
And as I stood there, surrounded by the sterile hum of machines and the weight of unspoken answers, I realized that whatever had happened on that road wasn’t an accident at all, and once the full story came out, none of our lives would ever be the same again.
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Chicago winter mornings are mercilessly cold. Margaret Wilson sighed deeply as she punched her time card at the end of her shift. The final hours of the night shift had been particularly busy with three CPR incidents and assisting in one emergency surgery. The hospital wards nursing station was filled with early morning hustle and bustle.
“Good work, Margaret. We’re so thankful you were here today,” said Susan Chambers, the night shift head nurse, patting her shoulder lightly. Margaret smiled back. Working at Chicago General Hospital for 10 years, she had become a trusted presence in the emergency department of this large medical center. “Thanks, Susan.
We managed to get through it somehow.” In the locker room, Margaret changed out of her nurse’s uniform into a soft sweater and jeans, then checked her cell phone. There was a message from her husband, James, heading to work early this morning. Could you take Ryan to school? Abby was up late last night, so it might be better not to wake her. Love you.
Margaret responded to the message with a slight sense of unease. Okay, take care. Love you too. Recently, James, who worked as a salesman in real estate, had been leaving home earlier and returning later than before. According to him, the market was booming and he had new clients.
Margaret trusted her husband, but sometimes she got the impression he was hiding something. She got into her car and headed home. Snow began to fall with tiny crystals landing on the windshield. Their house in Chicago’s suburbs was a two-story home they had purchased right after getting married 10 years ago. As Margaret opened the door, she heard her son’s voice from the quiet house. Mom, welcome home.
12-year-old Ryan was eating breakfast at the kitchen table. In front of him was a bowl of cereal with milk, and he had spread out his school homework. Margaret kissed him lightly on the head. Good morning, Ryan. Finished your homework. Almost. But this math part is a little difficult. Margaret sat next to her son, offering to help with his homework.
Ryan was a bright, intelligent boy who excelled in science and history, but struggled a bit with math. “Where’s dad?” Ryan asked. He said he left early for work. Seems he has a new client. Ryan was about to say something but swallowed his words. Margaret noticed but didn’t press him. Her son seemed more contemplative lately. She thought it might be the beginning of adolescence.
Is Aunt Abby still sleeping? Looks like it. Dad’s message said she was up late last night, so it’s better to let her rest. Margaret’s sister Abby had divorced four months ago and was temporarily staying with them. Her marriage had lasted just three years. She had made the decision after discovering her husband’s infidelity.
Margaret wanted to give her sister time and space to start a new life. Ready for school. It’s time for the bus, Margaret said, looking at the clock. Ryan hurriedly stuffed his homework into his bag and put on his jacket. Margaret handed him a sandwich for lunch. Have a good day. Come straight home after school. Okay, Mom.
I might be a little late today because I’m studying math with my friend Mike. Do you know some people earn over $10,000 a month just by posting Reddit stories on YouTube? No face, no voice, just a laptop. I do it too. Link below if you’re curious. Margaret hugged her son and watched him leave the house. After finishing some chores, she gently knocked on Aby’s door upstairs.
When there was no answer, Margaret opened the door slightly and peeked in. The room was empty. The bed was neatly made, and Abby was nowhere to be seen. Margaret frowned. It was unusual for her sister to go out so early in the morning. She started to contact her by phone, but stopped herself from sending a message. Abby was an adult.
She had the right to her own time. Margaret dragged her tired body to bed. Sleep after the night shift was precious. But before falling asleep, she couldn’t help thinking about her family. Something felt off lately. The subtly changed atmosphere in the family. James’s return times. Aby’s strange behavior. Ryan’s silence.
Still, Margaret reassured herself. The family was fine. Everyone was just dealing with life changes in their own way. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Tomorrow would be a new day. Everything would return to normal. 3 weeks later, Margaret was having lunch in the hospital cafeteria. Her colleague Diana sat across from her, placing a coffee down and whispering, “Margaret, are you all right? You look tired lately.
” Margaret looked up and forced a smile. “Yes, I’m fine. Just busy.” In reality, she was far from fine. The subtle changes in the family atmosphere were troubling her. Recently, her husband James carried his smartphone everywhere and always seemed apprehensive. He hastily checked the screen whenever a message arrived and quickly put it away when Margaret approached.
His explanation was that he was under pressure with ongoing deals with important clients. But Margaret felt there was some other reason. Really? How are things at home? Is Abby still living with you? Diana’s questions seem to carry some implication. Yes, she still is. She seems to be trying to get her life back on track lately.
Margaret thought about her sister. Abby had clearly changed recently. Previously, she had been unable to recover from the pain of divorce and often stayed in her room, but now she spent time on makeup every morning, bought new clothes, and went out more frequently. When Margaret asked, “Has something good happened?” Abby deflected the conversation, saying, “I’m just trying to think positively about life.
” Margaret looked into Diana’s eyes. “Do you know something?” Diana shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “No, not really. I’m just concerned.” Margaret sensed that there was truth hidden in her friend’s words, but she didn’t pursue it further. She remembered Ryan. Her son had changed, too.
After returning from school, he used to eat snacks in the kitchen while telling her about his day, but now he often silently retreated to his room. The previous evening, Margaret had knocked on Ryan’s door. “Ryan, dinner time. I’m not hungry,” came her son’s voice from inside. Margaret opened the door and entered Ryan’s room.
He was sitting on the bed, hugging his knees. What’s wrong? Is there a problem? Ryan didn’t look up and shrugged. Nothing. Did something happen at school? Are you being bullied? No, it’s just He stumbled over his words. I don’t understand grown-up business. Margaret frowned at those words. What do you mean? Ryan fell silent and said in a small voice, “Nothing.
” Margaret was brought back to reality by Diana’s voice. “The doctors have noticed changes in you, too. You’re usually so careful, but yesterday you almost made a mistake in a patients records,” Margaret blushed. “Indeed, yesterday she had lacked concentration. She had almost written medication for one patient in another patient’s record.
Fortunately, Dr. Carter, the chief physician, noticed her mistake and corrected it. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. Diana took her friend’s hand. Margaret, if something’s wrong, why not talk about it? Margaret took a deep breath, hesitating whether to confide her worries, but she didn’t know what to say. She herself didn’t yet understand the situation.
I’m really fine, just a bit tired. That night, Margaret was preparing for her night shift. James had said he would be late from work, so she asked Abby to handle Ryan’s dinner. Of course, sis. Don’t worry, Abby answered cheerfully. Margaret found her sister’s behavior strange, so different from before. She who had once seemed depressed now appeared unusually bright.
Meanwhile, her son and husband seemed to be dragging some dark shadow. Margaret couldn’t understand what was happening in her family. Arriving at the hospital, her colleague Susan greeted her with a worried face. Margaret, do you have a moment? They moved to a corner of the nursing station.
Susan looked around and began speaking in a low voice. about your husband. Margaret’s heart raced. James, what happened? Last Saturday when I was at the mall, I saw him. The woman he was with. Abby. Margaret’s voice trembled. Susan looked surprised. You knew. No, just Margaret was at a loss for words. She had sensed something before but didn’t want to acknowledge it.
Her husband and sister, it was too painful a betrayal. They seemed very intimate. Susan chose her words carefully, holding hands and laughing. If you didn’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Margaret leaned against the wall. All the pieces were starting to connect in her mind. James’s late returns home. Aby’s sudden change and her son Ryan’s words, “I don’t understand grown-up business.
It’s okay, Susan. Thank you for telling me.” During that night’s shift, Margaret’s mind was in turmoil. She tried to focus on patient care, but her family situation occupied her thoughts. How should she handle this? should she confront them directly or gather evidence. If her husband and sister were truly betraying her, her world would collapse. At 2:00 a.m.
, an emergency call rang out. Code blue, emergency treatment room. Code blue, emergency treatment room. Margaret rushed there. The emergency room was bustling with activity. Multiple medical staff were moving busily and new patients seemed to be arriving. Three traffic accident victims seriously injured, shouted a young resident.
A car apparently hit a tree on the highway. Margaret tried to focus on her role. However, at that moment, her cell phone rang. Normally, she would ignore it, but feeling uneasy about a call so late at night, she checked her phone. Mrs. Wilson, a voice that sounded like a police officer. Your husband, sister, and son have been in an accident.
They’re being transported to Chicago General Hospital now. Margaret’s world stopped. I I’m there now. She hung up and walked to the emergency room on trembling legs. Margaret’s feet moved as if they weren’t her own. She pushed open the doors to the emergency room. It was overflowing with medical staff, tense voices, and machine warning sounds intermingling.
“Where? Where are they?” Margaret cried? Susan rushed over to her and grabbed her arm. “Margaret, where is my family?” Susan’s expression darkened. Resolutely, she led Margaret to the back of the treatment room. There, three stretchers were lined up. Bodies covered with white sheets connected to IVs and monitoring devices.
Margaret approached step by step, feeling intense trembling. On the first bed lay her husband, James. His face had lacerations and his right arm was bent at an unnatural angle. On the next bed was her sister Abby. Her beautiful face was swollen with a large wound on her forehead. And on the last bed lay her beloved son Ryan.
His small body looked defenseless with a bandage wrapped around his head. All three were unconscious. James, Abby, Ryan, Margaret cried, trying to rush to them. But Dr. Carter, the chief physician, stood in her way and quietly stopped her. “Margaret, calm down. Your family, it’s better not to see them now.” Margaret asked in a trembling voice. “Why?” “How are they?” Dr.
Carter said with his head down. “We’ll explain everything when the police arrive.” Blood rushed to Margaret’s head. “Police? Why police? Isn’t it just an accident? At that moment, the treatment room doors opened and two uniformed police officers entered. One was an older man, the other a young woman. Mrs. Wilson.
I’m Detective Johnson. This is my partner, Detective Lee. The older officer introduced himself. May we talk to you for a moment? Margaret nodded slowly, still gazing at her family lying on the beds. Susan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her to a quiet interview room. Dr. Carter and the two detectives followed.
In the interview room, Detective Johnson began speaking quietly. Mrs. Wilson, I’m very sorry to say this, but there are suspicious aspects to tonight’s accident. According to witness statements, there was a heated argument in the car just before the accident. The car began to swerve and eventually crashed into a tree by the roadside.
Margaret tried to understand the words. An argument. Between whom? We don’t know exactly yet. However, Detective Johnson paused as if choosing his words. Is there something you’re hiding? Margaret’s heart pounded. Your husband’s smartphone was found at the accident scene. The screen displayed a message. Detective Lee took out the smartphone from an evidence bag and showed it to Margaret.
There was no passcode on James’s phone. The message app was open with a message to Abby. Tonight, let’s tell Margaret everything. We can’t keep hiding it. Now that Ryan knows, it will only destroy his heart if we continue like this. Margaret was speechless. Blood rushed to her head and her ears rang. All the pieces connected.
Her husband’s late returns. Her sister’s changes. Her son’s behavior. Before her eyes, her family’s secret was revealed. James and my sister. She choked on the words. Detective Johnson quietly nodded. Our investigation shows that your husband and sister were having an intimate relationship.
And it seems your son witnessed it. We believe they were trying to have a discussion tonight. Margaret’s world crumbled. Strength left her body and she collapsed into a chair. the betrayal of her husband and sister and the weight of the secret her innocent son had been carrying their condition. She finally managed to say. Dr.
Carter stepped forward. They’re all stable. However, there was impact to their brains and they’re currently in comas. Your son in particular had a strong impact to his head, so the next 24 hours are critical. Margaret closed her eyes. Tears streamed down her cheeks. My son, he knew. To think he was carrying such a burden alone.
Detective Lee quietly said, “This was found in your son’s backpack.” She took out a folded piece of paper. Margaret took it and opened it. It was a page from a diary written in Ryan’s childish handwriting. “Today, I saw Dad and Aunt Abby kissing in the kitchen. I don’t know how to tell mom. Dad asked me, “This is grown-up business. Please don’t tell mom.
But I hate lying. I hate to see mom sad. What should I do?” Margaret clutched the paper to her chest and sobbed loudly. Her heart was torn. Worry for her loved ones and anger at their betrayal. Most painful of all was her son’s suffering. A boy of just 12, forced to carry adult secrets. She couldn’t bear it.
“Let me see them,” Margaret pleaded with tear blurred eyes. “Dr. Carter hesitated.” “Margaret, will you be able to see their condition calmly? I’m a nurse and they’re my family, even if they betrayed me.” Dr. Carter nodded quietly and took Margaret back to the treatment room. She first went to her son’s bed.
She took Ryan’s small hand and gently squeezed it. “Mommy’s here, Ryan. Please wake up. Please,” she whispered. “You were so brave.” But you don’t have to carry such a burden anymore. Next, she went to her sister’s bed. The sister she had been close to since childhood. The sister who betrayed her. Margaret’s heart was filled with conflicting emotions.
“Why, Abby?” “We were sisters,” she said quietly. Finally, she stood at her husband James’s bed. “10 years of marriage.” “Memories with him.” “And now the revealed betrayal.” “What were our vows?” she asked. But there was no answer. Margaret turned to Dr. Carter. Please let me know when they wake up. Especially Ryan.
I should be the first face he sees. A week passed since the accident. Margaret was in Ryan’s hospital room, gazing at the morning sun streaming through the window. Her son was still in a coma, but doctors said there were signs of recovery. Brainwave activity had increased, and occasionally his fingers moved. It was a glimmer of hope. Margaret had taken leave from work.
Her hospital colleagues were concerned about her and took turns visiting, bringing toys, books, and flowers for Ryan. Susan was particularly attentive, making sure Margaret ate and took breaks. “Get some rest,” Susan said. “I’ll be here.” Margaret smiled with a tired face. “Thank you, but I’m fine. I think I should be the first face he sees when he wakes up.
Meanwhile, James and Abby had regained consciousness 3 days earlier. They had been moved to separate rooms, and Margaret hadn’t tried to see them. However, today she decided for Ryan’s sake, she felt she needed to know the truth. Ryan, mommy’s going out for a bit. I’ll be right back. She kissed her son’s forehead and left the room.
Walking down the hallway, Margaret’s heart was in turmoil, anger, sadness, and above all, the deep pain of betrayal. However, she tried to maintain her composure as a medical professional. Not to be swept away by emotions, but to know the facts. In front of James’s hospital room door, she took a deep breath.
After knocking, she entered to find her husband lying in a bed by the window. His face still bore injuries and his right arm was in a cast. Seeing Margaret enter, his eyes widened. Margaret. His voice was weak. In the adjacent bed sat Abby. The swelling on her face had subsided considerably, but a large bruise remained under her eyes.
Seeing Margaret, she lowered her gaze. “Why?” Margaret asked in a cold voice. As soon as she entered the room, James and Abby exchanged glances and shamefully lowered their eyes. “Margaret, let me explain.” James began. At first, it was just comfort. Abby was hurt from the divorce. “Comfort.” Margaret’s voice trembled. “Is having an affair with my sister comfort?” Abby said through tears, “Sis, I’m so sorry.
This wasn’t the intention. But when I realized and my son found out, Margaret was shaking with anger. What did he see? How much do you think he was hurt? The truth was revealed. A month ago, Ryan had come home early on an early dismissal day from school. As he quietly entered the house, he heard giggling from the kitchen.
When he peaked in, he saw his father and aunt embracing and kissing. Ryan froze. His father noticed him and hurriedly tried to explain. Son, this is it’s grown-up business. Please don’t tell mom. Since then, Ryan had been suffering from confusion and guilt. He loved his mother, but feared that telling the truth would destroy the family. He withdrew, lost his appetite, and couldn’t concentrate at school.
On the day of the accident, Ryan couldn’t bear it anymore, and declared to his father and aunt that he would tell mom everything. A panicked James tried to persuade Ryan in the car, and Abby accompanied them. The heated argument in the car caused the accident. “Because of your selfishness, my son became the victim,” Margaret choked on the words.
All he wanted was for me to know the truth. James wept. I won’t ask for forgiveness. But Ryan, “I never meant to hurt him.” “But he was hurt,” Margaret said coldly. “Because of you, too.” Abby looked up, “Sis, how is Ryan?” “Still in a coma.” But the doctors say there are signs of recovery. A tense silence filled the room.
Anything from the police? James fearfully asked. “It’s being handled as an accident. Your driving mistake was the cause.” “Of course. The message on your cell phone is on record.” James lowered his face. “I’ve consulted a lawyer. I intend to start divorce proceedings. I’ll pay sufficient child support and compensation to you and Ryan.
It’s not about money, Margaret said quietly. You betrayed 10 years of marriage and my trust. Sis, Abby said in a trembling voice. We don’t intend to continue the relationship. It was a mistake, but we never meant to hurt you. Margaret stared at Abby, the sister she had grown up with since childhood.
The sister who had cried with joy at her wedding. And now the sister who had taken her happiness. You made your choice and I’ll make mine. A new life for Ryan and me. She said nothing more and left the room. In the hallway, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Suppressing her anger and sadness, she returned to Ryan’s hospital room.
As she entered, doctors were gathered around her son’s bed. Margaret’s heart nearly stopped. “What happened?” she cried. Dr. Carter turned around and surprisingly he was smiling. “He’s awake, Margaret.” Margaret rushed over. Ryan’s eyes were open. He looked weak and confused, but definitely conscious. Ryan.
Margaret took her son’s hand. It’s mom. Do you understand? Ryan nodded slowly. Mom. His voice was the doctors continued their examinations and eventually left the room. Dr. Carter stayed back last and explained to Margaret, “It’s miraculous. There’s no significant damage to his brain, and he has a good chance of full recovery.
Of course, rehabilitation will be necessary, but being young, his recovery should be quick.” Margaret wept. This time, there were tears of joy. “Thank you, doctor.” After Dr. Carter left the room, Margaret sat beside her son. Ryan looked at his mother and trembled his lips. “Mom, I’m sorry about not telling you about Dad and Aunt Abby.” Margaret gently stroked her son’s hair.
You did nothing wrong. Instead, I’m sorry you had to carry such a burden alone, but it’s okay now. Mom is here. Dad, Aunt Abby, they’re both recovering. But Ryan, life will be a little different from now on. We’re going to become a new family. Ryan closed his eyes understandingly. Though still weak, he firmly gripped his mother’s hand.
“I want to be with mom,” he said in a small voice. Margaret gently embraced her son. “Well be a family, Ryan. but in a new form. Let’s be strong together. One Sunday morning, a year later, Margaret was making pancakes in the kitchen. From the living room came Ryan’s laughter. He had fully recovered and was adapting well to life at his new school.
Margaret felt the sunlight streaming through the window and reflected on the past year. The first few months had been difficult. divorce proceedings, moving, and her son’s rehabilitation and counseling. But they were moving forward little by little. Margaret, who had returned to the hospital, now worked shorter hours? She treasured her time with Ryan.
“Mom, are Ben and Joshua coming to the park picnic today?” Ryan came into the kitchen. “Yes, they are,” Margaret smiled. Ben Harrison was a pediatrician she had met at the PTA of Ryan’s new school, and he had a 9-year-old son, Joshua. She and Ben, also raising a child alone, had gradually deepened their friendship.
“They’re nice,” Ryan said frankly. “I got a letter from Dad.” James had moved to the West Coast. He was receiving counseling for alcohol dependency and facing his actions. He wrote to Ryan once a month and occasionally called. “It would take a long time to repair the father-son relationship, but at least he was trying.
” “Dad says he started volunteer work helping children,” Ryan said. Margaret nodded. “That’s good.” As she was preparing dinner, the doorbell rang. Opening the door, she found Abby standing there with a bouquet of flowers. “May I come in?” she asked nervously. Abby had completed a rehabilitation program and started working as a counselor at a women’s support center.
She had sent Margaret several apologetic letters. 3 months ago, Margaret began writing short replies and last week they spoke on the phone for the first time. Ryan, someone’s here to see you. Margaret called her son. Ryan hesitated at first but soon rushed to Abby and lightly hugged her. How have you been? How’s school? Abby asked.
Margaret returned to the kitchen and made coffee. Repairing the sister’s relationship wasn’t easy, but at least they were trying. She was surprised at herself. What once seemed unforgivable now seemed possible. It wasn’t weakness, but strength. At night, after Ryan was asleep, Margaret opened her diary. Today, Abby came to the house.
Something I couldn’t have imagined a year ago. The wounds haven’t completely healed, but we’re moving forward. Life sometimes takes unexpected directions. But what matters, I think, is whether you have the courage to stand up after the storm. She looked out the window. A new moon was floating in the sky.
The Chicago night was quiet, somehow peaceful. Tomorrow is a new day, and she and Ryan would overcome whatever days might come together. Every ending is also a new beginning. Margaret etched this in her heart as she turned off the lights.
