She hadn’t spoken to her mother in months. A couple of years ago Ellie had moved out, into a small share house with a few uni friends. She’d made the effort to see her mother a few times a month, mostly stopping by for dinner after her shift at the local daycare.

On a crisp morning in September, her mother had called asking if she’d like to come over for a family dinner that weekend. Ellie hadn’t wanted to- having had quite a busy week a night on the couch was calling to her.

“Ellie please- it’s really important to me that you come,” she’d pleaded through the phone.

“Mum I don’t know if I’ll be feeling up for it I-“

You need to be there. I never ask you for anything but Im asking you for this. It’s important.”

Ellie has turned up at 7:39pm, with a bottle of wine in hand only mildly late. There was another car in the driveway which she didn’t recognise.

“Hi mum, did you get a new car or something?”

“Oh hi Elle, we’re in here!”

As she turned the corner into the lounge she saw her mum sitting on the couch, with a man sat next to her, his hand gently placed on her thigh.

Ellie felt the contents of her stomach turn, felt the blood in her veins start to run hot.

Her mum started, “come sit darling, we have something to tell you,” patting the chair opposite her.

“What the hell mum?”

Her mothers eyes widened, mouth falling slightly ajar as her daughters heart rate quickened.

“You only left dad a month ago and now what? Now you’ve found some new guy that’s- no offense- at least 10 years older than you!”

Ellie continued her rant for the next few minutes, all the while her mother and the stranger tried to intervene, “No darling you’ve got it wrong- we aren’t”

“How dare you,” Ellie whispered harshly before she fled out the front door.

Almost 4 months later she received a call from a private number. She tended to let them go to voicemail- but something in her heart told her to answer.

“Hello?”

“Ellie Watson?”

“Yes?” her eyes started to brim at the urgency in the callers voice.

“It’s your mother, she’s been admitted and isn’t looking too good…”

Ellie’s ears rang out.

“She’s unstable at the moment- she never gave us her do not resuscitate preference, would you happen to know?”

“Would I happen to- we never spoke out that?”

“Not even throughout her treatment- she knew there was a high chance of it going this way.”

“She knew- what do you mean?”

“Ellie,” the callers voice grew soft, “when was the last time you spoke to your mother?”

“Months ago…” she responded, voice hoarse.

“She has stage 4 lung cancer. How quickly can you get here?”