I sit waiting in the cold room. People are sitting in blue plastic chairs all around me. I can’t help but think why they are here. An elderly man is sitting next to us. He’s grasping his wife’s hand and reading a newspaper. I look to the left. A boy scout is sitting there reading a magazine. Across from us an older girl, maybe 13, is sitting in a wheel chair with her foot up high. And here I am; sitting right in the middle of all of them just wanting to hold my mommy.

My father walks up to the front desk to ask the receptionist a question. Mommy is a receptionist. She works at a pediatrician. She brought me there a few times when I was younger to help her get work done and hand out stickers to the kids as they left. She’d smile at me and brush her fingers over my hair. She’d tell me, “Good job, Lucy.” and continue on working.

He whispers something to her. Something I can’t hear. I want to know what’s happening. I’m scared, sitting there all alone with no one to hold on to or to cry on. My daddy is a tall man with muscles and all. He walks back to me with his shoulders sagging and his face droopy. He puts his arm around me as I sit there wondering. A sound is heard and I look to the doors where my brother, Adam, walked in. He’s rushing, taking long strides. I don’t know why he’s so worked up. His face is red and he has a tear rolling down his cheek. The water glistens in the lights coming from the ceiling. He walks over to Daddy and sits next to him. He looks around at the other people as they read or talk with family.

The receptionist calls Daddy back up to the desk. I can see from here that her eyes are wet, that her lips are curved inward, and that her face is pale. She opens her mouth a few times but no sounds come out. I can tell because she’d open it and then immediately close it. My father is hunched over on the counter. He is talking I can tell. She opens her mouth for the fourth time and this time sound comes out. I didn’t know then but, she says to Daddy, “She’s… gone.”