7
Noah woke to the sound of his mother coughing, a sound that had become painfully familiar. It tore him up inside every time because it reminded him she was sick and might not get better. He started to kick the covers off, but then he heard a pause and the distinct sound of her nebulizer humming. The coughing stopped. He lay still in the bed. His mother tended to get frustrated if he hovered too much, so when it seemed like she had things in hand, he tried to give her space. The wispy winter light of dawn was visible outside his window. He’d forgotten to close the curtains when he got home early this morning. He rolled his head to the side and stared out. The sun’s rays were reaching up into the sky above the trees. Balsam firs were dusted with fresh snow that had fallen during the night
