When Mom became seriously ill, my sister Samira suddenly took on the role of the “perfect daughter,”
moving in with her and insisting I stay away. Though she claimed it was to care for Mom, I knew Samira’s intentions weren’t pure. Mom and I had always been close, and I worried Samira’s selfish ways would only hurt her.
When I managed to visit Mom alone, she told me she had noticed everything and understood far more than she let on. Her words stayed with me, even as Samira continued to control access to her. As Mom’s condition worsened, I began quietly paying all her medical bills so she wouldn’t worry about money, though I noticed that Samira’s spending seemed suspiciously high.
When Mom was hospitalized, I finally had a chance to be by her side, reading to her and bringing comfort. Samira stayed there constantly, trying to appear devoted, but I could see through the act. Then, one heartbreaking day, the hospital called to tell me Mom had passed away.