When I was a little girl, my mother taught me how to use a code word if I was in trouble and couldn’t speak up
Two months. That’s how long I had been away, tending to my mother after her surgery. Two long, exhausting months of hospital cafeteria food, uncomfortable chair naps, and constant worry. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of finally returning to my own apartment, my own bed, and, of course, my husband,…