Visiting her
Walking down the sterile hospital hallway felt unsettling. Echoing voices faded into the background as my attention fixed on the room at the far end. Kelsey, my ex-mother-in-law, was now in end-of-life care. As I stepped closer, her frail figure emerged beneath the layers of blankets, her eyes catching mine. A weight settled in my chest. I couldn’t predict what she might say. Would it be words of peace, or another dose of her familiar bitterness?
Visiting Her
My ex-sister-in-law
Before I could step inside, her daughter—my ex-sister-in-law, Grace—blocked my path. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here,” she snapped. Her voice wavered, but her words hit their mark. I swallowed, steadying myself. “Grace,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Your mother asked me to come.” Her glare was ice-cold, and the hallway seemed to chill with it. If this was any indication of the conversation ahead, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. My instincts warned me: this was just the beginning.
My Ex Sister In Law
