I could hardly believe my eyes as I sifted through all of the papers. The words blurred together, refusing to make sense.

Ashley.

Opium.

Delirium.

And ultimately......

Suicide.

Each word struck me like a physical blow, leaving me gasping for breath.

My hands trembled, causing the paper to rustle loudly in the silent room.

I had been unaware, completely oblivious to Mother's illness.

Father never spoke of it, and neither did Doctor Estridsen when he visited. But yet, I was too young to know or remember anything anyways.

I thought Mother's quiet moments and absentmindedness were just her way of coping with the pressures of our household. But to read now that she had been suffering, that she had been given opium to cure her "delirium", felt like a betrayal.

I recalled the many times I had been shooed away when I tried to when I tried to ask about my mom. The hushed conversations between Father and Doctor Estridsen, the looks of worry that passed between them, and the looks of guilt upon Nina's face when I tried to ask about my mother.

The way that my father lashes out when I mention my mother.

They all made sense now.

They had been hiding this from me, thinking it was for my own good, no doubt. But their secrecy had only made things worse.

My mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of my memory with this new, horrifying knowledge. I remembered Mother’s distant eyes when I caught a glimpse into her memory, the way she spoke as if she were in a dream.

I remembered her hands, they were cold, and trembling just slightly as she held that knife in her hands. And now I knew why.

They said the opium was supposed to help her. Doctor Estridsen had assured Father that it would calm her nerves, ease her suffering. Instead, it had driven her deeper into despair, further away from reality. How could they have trusted such a treatment? How could they not see that it was killing her?

And then, the final blow: her suicide.

My breath caught in my throat.

My mother had taken her own life, driven to the edge by the very medicine that was meant to save her. The thought of her final moments, alone and in agony, was more than I could bear. I felt a sob rise in my chest, but I swallowed it down, too stunned to cry.

Faint footsteps echoed down the hall, and I quickly folded the paper, hiding it from view. I could not face anyone, not now. Not when my mind was a tempest of confusion and grief.

I needed answers. I needed to understand why this had happened.

How had they allowed this tragedy to unfold? And most of all, I needed to know what kind of world we lived in, where the very people sworn to heal could become instruments of destruction.

As I stood there, clutching the paper, I vowed to uncover the truth. For Mother's sake, and for my own, I would not rest until I had answers.

A/N: Whoow! Hello! It's been a while hasn't it?

I got stuck with plot progression and things going on in my private life that really messed with my mental health for a while (as you can probably tell from my poetry book lol).

Anyways, it's been a while since I've written so this is kindly short and I'm still trying to brainstorm plot progression to get to an ending.

Chapter 23 - Realization

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