In the cold, sterile corridor of a hospital, an elderly, gray-haired woman sat down heavily next to a young, sharp-looking woman. Tears streamed down the old woman’s lined face. “I know I have no right… I wanted to see you before they decide,” she wept bitterly. The younger woman didn’t even turn her head, her gaze fixed forward, cold and unyielding. “You gave that right up 19 years ago,” she replied sharply. The mother sobbed, burying her face in her hands. “I was 16! I think about you every day.” But some wounds run too deep, and nearly two decades of absence cannot be erased by a single night of tears.
