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painting with her withered hands. “My darling daughter, love is a disease for which there is no cure.”
    I looked into my wise mother’s benevolent eyes. “What should I do?”
    She brushed away my tears with her long, still elegant fingers. “Sarah, never forget that you were born wearing combat boots. You are a warrior princess. Don’t let that evil boss of yours scare you. Fight for what you want. And for whom you want. He sounds like a really good man.”
    She lifted her sketchbook and flipped through the pages, landing on a portrait of me. The image shocked me. I was actually pretty, and in my big brown wide-set eyes, there was a fiery blend of intelligence, compassion, and determination.
    “Do you like it?” my mother asked.
    “Oh, Mom! It’s so good!” I studied the sketch. Yes, this is who I was. Sarah, Warrior Princess.
    I gave my mother a big hug. Oh, how I loved her.
    “Hi, Sarah.”
    The voice, a vaguely familiar one, startled me. I spun around. It was my mother’s oncologist, Dr. Chernoff.
    “Can I please have a word with you outside?”
    My pulse accelerated. I knew what he wanted to talk about.
    Outside in the hallway, Dr. Chernoff discussed my mother’s condition. “Yes, Sarah, she’s responding extraordinarily well to her treatment, but I’m afraid her insurance company is no longer going to cover the expenses. Her coverage terminates at the end of next week. Didn’t you receive my letter?”
    I pretended like I’d never received it. “Can’t you talk them into it?” I pleaded. “Maybe extend coverage for just one more month? I’m sure I can figure out a way to pay for it.”
    Dr. Chernoff planted his large hands on my shoulders. “Sarah, I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. Call me on Monday, and we’ll figure out an alternative course of action.”
    My heart sunk. With my precarious situation at work, I did not know what I was going to do. A tear escaped my eye. I could not lose my mother!
    Pulling myself together, I returned to my mother’s room. She was back to sketching but now looked weary. “What did Dr. Chernoff want?” she asked.
    “Oh, he just wanted to tell me you’re doing great and will be out of here very soon.” I could not bring myself to tell her about the insurance situation.
    A smile danced on my mother’s lips, but her eyes seemed to be in a faraway place. “My darling, unlike love, cancer has a cure.”
    Her bittersweet words moved me. I wondered if she was thinking about my father whom I knew she had never stopped loving, no matter how much he’d hurt her.
    I hugged her for the third time. “Bye, Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
    “Good-bye, my sweet girl. Remember what I said.”
    I loved my mom.
    “And, darling, one last thing, I want to meet him.”
    I really loved my mom. Oh please, God, make her better.

    Exiting the hospital, I had a lot on my mind. How was I going to pay for my mother’s cancer treatments? How was I going to fend off Catherine and keep my job? And how was I going to win back Ari? I had no answers. My mind was spinning out of control.
    As I headed back to 30th Street Station, I had the uncomfortable feeling I was being followed. I looked over my shoulder, saw nothing out of the ordinary, and decided I was being paranoid. My misery and sleeplessness were messing with my mind. Rounding the corner to Market Street, I suddenly felt myself being shoved from behind and found myself tumbling to the pavement. Roaring pain ripped through my palms and my knees as I hit the ground. It all happened so fast.
    Someone gripped me by the neck and pinned me to the ground. Dazed, I gazed up at my assailant. He was a greasy, pimply-faced thug with bad teeth. “Bitch!” he shouted, pulling out a pocket knife. My eyes grew wide as he flicked open the blade and pointed it at my chest.
    “What do you want?” My voice shook.
    “Back off, you little cunt.”
    He lowered the knife closer to my heart. I wanted to scream, but my vocal chords