Hoping.

Sheby walked along the corridor with a basket full of clothes, once again she had washed and dried unused garments. Ever since Safiya left, Mama had not stepped out of the house. Every day, Shelby would wash her clothes, hoping that one day she would at least step out into the sun.

Sheby turned the doorknob slowly upon reaching the room; it made a creaking sound, but not loud enough to jolt Mama. She walked in and spotted her seated on the bed, staring at the wall before her. The room was dimly lit by a yellow lantern seated at one corner, as it had been days since Mama refused to open the window and let light seep in.

"Mama," Sheby called as she placed the basket on a table and turned to the elderly woman. At first, Mama did not respond, so she had to call again.

"Yes," she replied, facing Sheby now, her face lacking any light, the skin beneath her eyes dark.