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told herself it was for the best, but even knowing she couldn’t have cared for her mother didn’t make the guilt go away. Suri’s mother had never held it against her, even on the days when she knew where she was.
    Suri sucked in a deep breath and held it, fighting for control. She hated feeling helpless. There was nothing she could do and nothing anyone else could do that would make things better. “Just say what you’re trying to say. I understand her condition isn’t going to get better. I just want to make her comfortable.”
    Dr. O’Neil hadn’t been at Our Lady very long. In ten years, Suri had seen eight different doctors come and go. The first few times it had happened, she’d felt as though they were deserting her, like they knew it was hopeless and they were getting out while they could. After a while, she started to realize that the job of watching residents die wore the doctors down just as much as it did her.
    O’Neil stabbed fingers through his dark salt-and-pepper hair and rested his elbows on the table between them. His face looked haggard, his brown eyes haunted. Suri knew he wouldn’t be around much longer. She wished she could say the same. “There are some treatments and medications we can try. Until then, I’ve put her on a liquid diet. If the rigidity increases much more in the throat area, she’s going to lose her swallow reflex. At that point, I might have to recommend a feeding tube.”
    “How much longer is all of this going to last?” Suri closed her eyes briefly, trying to find a modicum of hope or at least an end to the suffering.
    “There’s no way to know.”
    Which was the real bitch of this disease. It didn’t kill. Patients generally died of complications—things like pneumonia or the flu. In the meantime, their bodies either spasmed out of their control or hardened into shells that trapped their minds in a world not of their choosing. “Okay, you said new medications?”
    “I did.” He hesitated, gaze shifting away. “But they’re considered experimental and not covered by insurance.”
    “Of course not.” Suri’s insurance from teaching at the school covered only a pittance of her mother’s expenses. Her income from the trio helped, but stripping made ends meet—barely—and even that couldn’t cover everything. If Suri fell behind on the payment arrangements she had with the private facility, Mellie would be moved to a state-run nursing home. Suri had vowed from the beginning she’d never let that happen. Never. Her mother wasn’t going to get better. It was up to Suri to see that whatever time Mellie had left was as comfortable as Suri was financially capable of making it.
    “I can have the business office draw up an estimate. Until then, we can manage things as we have been.” O’Neil stood up and made his exit back to his own life.
    Suri watched him go, trying not to hate him for something that wasn’t his fault. She spent several moments sitting, trying to wipe her mind clear. Ten minutes passed before she felt sane enough to make her own exit back to the hallway.
    “Hello, Jen. How are you this afternoon?” Nurse Nancy had been a fixture around Our Lady since Suri’s mother had first been admitted. Sometimes Suri wondered how the older woman could stand it.
    “I’m doing okay, Nance. How about you?”
    Nancy’s cocoa-colored skin glowed with warmth. “My son just popped the big question to his sweetheart. They’re going to have a small ceremony at Christmastime! I’m so excited I could just sing!”
    “Congratulations, Nance! You tell him I said that, okay? I know you want to retire with a house full of grandbabies.”
    “I sure do.” Nancy patted her arm. “Your mama is in the common room, watching the birds.”
    “Thanks.”
    Suri left the nurse to her bubble of family happiness and walked back toward the facility entrance. The hallway ended abruptly, widening into a large common area where residents could receive guests. Windows