Ashley noticed immediately. “She’s awake!” she called out, bolting upright and running toward the hallway. A moment later, a doctor entered, clipboard in hand, concern etched deep into his features. He approached the bed gently, asked what had happened. Tula hesitated. But then, seeing Ashley’s pleading face, she spoke.
“I’ve been having… pain. Sharp, shooting. In my stomach. For a few weeks now,” she said softly, eyes avoiding her daughter’s. Ashley didn’t respond at first, but Tula saw the way her expression changed—something like hurt mixed with disbelief. She turned her face toward the wall and said nothing more.