Her feet pound on the treadmill. The rain comes down outside. She stares into the blurry window at the parking lot and keeps running, not getting anywhere.
Better the window blur than her eyes.
The music blares in her earbuds. Enimen talks about losing himself in the moment, in the music. Sarah tries to forget yesterday. The conversation with her mom. The uncertainty.
But yesterday’s talk plays over in her head:
“I’m sorry you couldn’t reach me, dear. My phone died. Your aunt and I went out for lunch after the appointment, then had our hair and nails done. It was lovely. We bonded in a way we haven’t since high school.”
“I’m glad you had a good time, Mom, but you can’t ignore the fact of what they told you at the clinic.”
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