The Prescotts Thought My Uniform Was Decorative

grabbed me earlier.

I stared at it until the monitor changed rhythm and she opened her eyes.

“Mom?”

“I’m here.”

“Did you go?”

“Yes.”

She blinked slowly.

“Was it bad?”

I should have lied.

I didn’t.

“Yes.”

Her mouth trembled, but no tears came. She had run out for the night.

“Mrs. Mendoza?”

“Safe.”

“Todd?”

“Not in this hallway.”

She turned her face toward the window.continue reading …