Luke’s Health Center, her thin wrists looked no thicker than dry twigs.

Two weeks before her last breath, I sat beside her adjustable bed while she plucked anxiously at the hospital sheets.

“Cassie,” she whispered, her voice hardly louder than the hum of the heart monitor.

“I’m right here with you, Mom,” I said, bending down to stroke her graying hair.

“You have to make me a promise you’ll never break before my time runs out,” she begged, opening her tired eyes.

“Mom, please rest and save your strength,” I pleaded, trying to keep my own voice from shaking.