“I love you too, Mom,” Kara sobbed. “So much.”
Daisy’s eyes drifted closed. Her breathing slowed, each inhale coming further apart than the last.
Evie and Kara sat on either side of her, holding her hands, bearing witness to the quiet ending of a life well-lived. A momentthat never became easy. Something that would always cling to her mind.
At 2:47 AM, Daisy Carter took her last breath.
The monitor alarm didn’t sound—Evie had turned it off, knowing this was coming. The room fell into a silence that felt sacred.
Evie checked for a pulse, though she already knew. “Time of death, 2:47 AM.”
Kara collapsed forward, sobbing into her mother’s shoulder. Evie moved around the bed, wrapping her arms around her, holding her while she fell apart.
“She’s at peace,” Evie said softly. “No more pain. No more fighting.”
“I know,” Kara managed. “I just—God, I’m going to miss her.”
“I know,” Evie said. “Me too.”
They sat like that for a long time, until Kara’s sobs quieted to hiccupping breaths.
“She liked you,” Kara said eventually, pulling back and wiping her eyes. “Both of you. Doctor Laurel too.”
“We liked her,” Evie said.
“She knew, you know,” Kara continued. “About you two. She could see it.” Her voice broke. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for her, for us both. I’ve had a lot of time to say goodbye. Thank you.”
Evie’s vision blurred. “It’s the least I can do. Your mother was a wonderful lady.”
They stayed a while longer, Evie helping Kara make the calls that needed to be made, handling the paperwork that came with death—the official pronouncement, the death certificate, the notifications.
By the time Evie finally stepped into the hallway, it was after 4 AM.
She was exhausted. Wrung out. Her scrubs smelled like the palliative care floor—that particular combination of antiseptic and something sweeter, sadder.
She pulled out her phone to text Maggie, then stopped.
Because Maggie was there.
Sitting in the family lounge, still in the yoga pants and t-shirt she’d thrown on hours ago, two cups of coffee on the table in front of her.
Evie’s chest cracked open.
“You waited,” she said.
Maggie looked up, and whatever she saw in Evie’s face made her stand immediately. “She’s gone?”
Evie nodded, not trusting her voice.
Maggie crossed to her in three strides, pulling her into her arms right there in the hallway. Evie buried her face in Maggie’s shoulder and finally let herself cry—not the professional tears she’d held back in Daisy’s room, but the full weight of grief she’d been carrying.
“I’ve got you,” Maggie murmured, one hand stroking her hair. “I’m here.”
A nurse walked past, glancing at them with curiosity but not judgment. Evie didn’t care. Let them see. Let them talk. Daisy was gone, and nothing else mattered in this moment.
When Evie finally pulled back, Maggie’s shirt was wet with her tears.
“Sorry,” Evie said.
