Helen’s days had always followed a rhythm she trusted. Tidy, dependable, like a song she’d known by heart. But lately, something had gone slightly out of tune. Lisa had become distant in small, almost invisible ways. She still dropped the kids off on time, still said “Thanks, Mom,” but her voice lacked its usual warmth.
“Everything alright?” Helen asked one morning as Lisa adjusted her jacket by the door. Lisa’s reply was polite, practiced. “Just tired, that’s all.” The words should have comforted her, but they didn’t. There was no tenderness in them. No pause to ask how Helen was in return. A week later, Helen had a routine checkup at the clinic.