Hard Goodbyes
Eva sat in front of the terminal aboard the Spirit of Amelia and chatted with her grandparents. Everyone else left her alone for privacy, or had contracts they needed to fulfil, or simply kept their distance. Regardless, they were all far beyond earshot.
“You two are looking great!” she told her grandparents.
“Oh Evie,” said her Grandma, “you’ve always been such an awful liar.”
Eva choked down her sadness and forced a smile as she looked at them through the screen. They looked worse every time they got into a call, and it had gotten to a point where it became unbearable for her.
Sticking out of her Grandma’s nose were tubes that lead to a portable oxygen tank just off to the side, almost out of view. And when she moved, her arms shook from advanced palsy.
“Okay, fine,” Eva said. “But at least your COPD isn’t getting much worse. At least, from the last time we chatted.”