Brenda’s brows furrowed. She had just taken the dicines and was about to drift into a deep slumber, but a familiar, known presence around was tugging at her senses. As though asking her to wake up and respond.
Normally, she would have ignored it easily, surrendered to the weight of sleep. But there was sothing in that voice —a stubborn persistence that reminded her of a little girl she had loved dearly, the one who never gave up until she got an answer.
Her eyelashes fluttered, heavy with fatigue, and after a few tries, she managed to open her eyes. At first, her vision swam in a blur, but as it slowly cleared, she saw Arwen sitting there at her bedside. Her eyes were fixed on her.
Her brows pinched tighter, as though suspecting she was hallucinating. Yet when she realized it was indeed her granddaughter, a frown creased her pale face.
"What are you doing here?"
Arwen didn’t respond right away. Her silence hung heavy, her eyes clouded with too many emotions to na. And when she finally spoke, her words carried a sharp edge. "I never knew I wasn’t allowed to co here. You never once told outright that I couldn’t."
"I didn’t," Brenda admitted, her frail voice barely above a whisper. The sound of it only twisted Arwen’s chest tighter. She hated how fragile it had beco ... how foreign it felt compared to what he rembered. "But you aren’t a kid anymore. You have grown up now. And grown-up kids should ask for an appointnt before visiting like this."
Arwen’s lips curved into a bitter smile, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. "Is that how you are going to continue your lies?" she asked before sneering unhesitantly. "If I had been you, I would have paused for a second and considered again. Or, maybe found and co up with sothing better."
Brenda stared at her granddaughter, her gaze softening at her sight. She never wanted her to see her like that. But now that she had seen her, she felt it was better. At least she wouldn’t have to hide from her. Not anymore. And she would be able to see her more and more.
However, in the blurriness of her gaze, she failed to notice sothing different in Arwen. Sothing she wouldn’t have chosen to ignore if she hadn’t been in the right mind, right state.
She took Arwen’s taunt in reaction to witnessing her current state. But little did she know, it wasn’t just that.
"What lies are you talking about?" she laughed out, trying to dismiss it. "I have never lied to you, nor would I ever do. I just didn’t want you to see her ugly. But guess what, you have to ruin my plan. Now are you happy?"
"Happy?" Arwen almost jeered. "Should I be happy seeing you like this?"
"Wennie," Brenda’s voice softened with an affectionate sigh, "old age cos to everyone. It has co to today; it will co to soone else tomorrow. You can’t —"
Before Brenda could finish, Arwen cut in sharply.
"Have you really never lied to ?"
Her interruption like that left Brenda montarily speechless.
Arwen pressed on, her eyes narrowing. "Let give you another chance to reconsider your words. Let see how true you are."
Brenda frowned, staring at her as though trying to read her expression, but her illness clouded her strength, leaving her unable to hold her ground.
"Wennie, —"
"You rember the chocolates you often brought ?" Arwen asked suddenly, her voice taut. "Of course, even though you are ill, you must still rember them. It was your speciality, wasn’t it? You always brought them for ; if not, send them in the hands of soone else, so I could have them every day without a miss."
Brenda paused, her breath hitching faintly. Her fingers twisted against the sheets.
The change in her expression didn’t stop Arwen. Her patience was gone. "It almost beca a daily ritual for . So, tell —what was so special about them?"
The room fell into an oppressive silence. Brenda’s lips parted, but no words ca. Her chest rose unevenly, the steady beeping of the monitor betraying her unrest
"Wennie, you know —"
Arwen raised her hand, stopping her cold. Her voice was steady, but her eyes burned. "I guess that’s a little difficult for you. Let keep it simple. Just tell — who you have loved most in this world."
"It’s you, Wennie," Brenda answered without hesitation. Not because it was an easy question, but because she had taught herself that answer over and over until it beca a second nature to her. "You are my granddaughter —one whom I have pampered and adored all my life. Who else can I love more than you?"
Arwen’s fingers curled into tight fists. For her entire life, she had believed the sa —that her Granna loved her above all else. That she had been cherished beyond asure. But today ...
Today, the veil seed to have ripped away.
Her lips trembled, her voice cutting with the sharp edge of betrayal. "No, you lied with that again, Granna. It’s not ."
Brenda tried to shake her head and reject her words. "Wennie, hear out —"
But Arwen didn’t seem willing to give her the chance. "It’s not that you love the most in this world," her voice rising despite the heaviness in her throat. "It’s not , but your daughter."
"Wennie —"
"The one that you love the most isn’t . It wasn’t ," Arwen shook her head cruelly at her. "It was always your daughter. Otherwise, why —why, to save her —you wouldn’t think twice about risking and my life? That’s not how you treat the one you love the most in the world."
"Wennie, —"
"Haven’t I guessed it perfectly right, Granna?" Arwen asked, raising her brows, already sure, she did.
Brenda closed her eyes. She wanted to refuse, but she couldn’t. How could she when it has been the truth all the while.
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