<div style="text-align: center"><u>The Week Before</u>​</div><br/>Chicken broth and scrambled eggs. Every morning without fail, the same thing. Della sighed, listening to the muffled sounds of the newscast emanating from the television in the living room; the room that had become her mother's bedroom over the last few weeks.<br/><br/>The pan sizzled as she moved it onto a cool burner, and turned to grab the plate she had set aside. Once her mother's breakfast was on the tray, she brought it into the room, setting it onto the bedside table gently.<br/><br/>"Mother?"<br/><br/>Glazed eyes turned to look at her, and Della felt a small pang of sadness in the pit of her stomach. "Quiet, dear. I'm watching my stories."<br/><br/>"You need to eat, mother." Della's voice was soft, but then it usually was. Jessica Harrison had always been a domineering personality, and Della had always seemed to wilt under her gaze. She opened a straw for the glass of water on the tray, and then brought the glass to her mother's mouth. "Drink. We don't want you getting dehydrated again."<br/><br/>Reluctantly, her mother sipped at the water. She pushed away the food when offered, and Della felt that sadness turning sour. Just then, the door to their small apartment opened. Della looked up.<br/><br/>"The nurse is here, Mother. I'll be back by two." The latter was directed more toward the nurse than Jessica. Della slipped on her coat and scarf, grabbing her wallet, keys, and name badge before heading out the door and down the stairs into the cold winter air. It was a sad time in her life when working as the stock girl in a convenience store could be considered an escape.