For three months, Mia’s mother kept telling her to stay away, claiming the house was undergoing renovations. At first, Mia didn’t question it. Her demanding job kept her occupied, and her mother had always been independent. But soon, Mia noticed her mom’s voice sounded weak, and their conversations grew short and distant. Concern began to take over, and one morning, Mia decided to visit in person.
When she arrived, the signs were immediately worrying—the yard was unkempt, and the mailbox overflowed. The front door, surprisingly unlocked, led into a spotless house that showed no trace of any renovation. As she called out, a faint sound from upstairs guided her to the bedroom. There, she found her mother looking frail and ill, her head bald, wrapped in layers of blankets. “Mia… you weren’t supposed to see me like this,” she whispered.
