Your mother finally arrives. Never did your sister run so fast than in that short sprint. The car ride on the way to the hospital is silent, except for the sound of your sister crying. Her eyes are closed in an urgent prayer that the doctors can wake you up. Because her eyes are closed, she cannot see the tears in your mother's eyes. They fog her eyes as she tries to keep it together for your sister's sake. Your mother grips to the steering wheel like it's your life with her left hand. Her right hand goes to grab your sister's left. The fingers intertwine and become support for the other, knowing that someone is there, and they won't have to suffer alone.