I fit myself between two of the carts and cry. At first, I’m embarrassed, but after a little while, I realize that if anyone comes by, like a nurse or a doctor, they’ll think nothing of it. Hospitals are filled to the gills with teary people, after all. I’m not any different. I need my mother to come get me, to save me from the fact that my mother is dead. I start to laugh, because that’s terrible, and awful, and all my bones are shattering inside me and it feels like being stabbed from the inside out.
