I hadn’t had any visitors, so when Mr. Wilson called me out of the dayroom Sunday afternoon I thought it was a mistake. “Who is it?” I asked. “Your mother and sister,” he said with a grin. “I might have to steal your little sister, she’s so cute.” I stopped dead in the hallway and looked at Wilson to see if he was kidding. My moms hadn’t visited me in months. “You sure?” I asked. “Yeah, it’s for you. Remember, they can’t give you anything to bring into the facility,” Wilson said. “They’re supposed to leave all gifts at the office.” “Yeah, okay.” The visitors’ room was decent. There were red and yellow tables you could sit at and real curtains on the windows. There were cameras in each corner of the room, but I didn’t mind them. A television was tuned to the weather channel. I looked around and saw a woman who looked like my mom standing in front of one of the vending machines.
