I caught her before she fell to the floor, holding her close to my chest.
“Is she okay? What's wrong with her?” My mom asked, worry evident in her tone.
“She’s fine,” I said and carried her up to my childhood bed. As I dropped her on the bed, I looked at her longer than I wanted to.
I saw the laugh lines on her cheeks, deep etches marrying her otherwise flawless skin. I've never seen her laugh, except that time she was smiling at Philip.
“Is she going to be okay?” I turned around and saw my mom, standing at the door of my room.
“Yes mother,” I looked back down at her. “She just needs a little rest.”
“You know I kept your room exactly how it was,” she said, looking around the room.
There was a little pause. “I kept his room the same way too,” she said in a low tone.
“Mom, you don't
