Between Laughter and Longing

He nodded toward the bedside table. "Phone’s in there. Password is 313142."

I opened the drawer, grabbed the phone, and typed in the code, holding my breath. The screen unlocked with a soft click.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" a voice demanded from the doorway.

I looked up to see a woman in her fifties, elegant in a navy suit, her hair swept back into a perfect chignon. She looked me up and down, her gaze sharp and assessing.

I shot Julian a look, silently asking, Who is this?

He didn’t even glance my way. "My mom."

I straightened up, pasting on my best polite smile. "Ma’am—oh, Mrs. Foster, hello."

Her expression softened a little, the corners of her mouth twitching.

She noticed me holding Julian’s phone and her eyes widened. "You know Julian’s phone password?"

I hurried to explain, my words tumbling over each other. "He told me."

I glanced around, hoping for backup, but Julian had already slipped away, nowhere to be seen.

Mrs. Foster’s gaze warmed, a hint of approval flickering in her eyes.

"How long have you known Julian?" she asked, her voice gentler now.

I answered honestly, fidgeting with the phone. "Not long..."

Then it hit me—she was totally misunderstanding what was going on. I opened my mouth to explain, but she reached out and patted my hand.

"No need to say anything, I understand," she said, her voice soft and full of meaning.

Inside, I was screaming. Lady, you really don’t understand! Not even close!

How was I supposed to explain? Tell her I could see her son’s wandering soul? Pretty sure that’d get me kicked out, or maybe even locked up.

"The doctor said having someone you care about nearby helps with waking up," she said, her eyes misty.

"Mm-hmm." I nodded, playing along. That’s what always happens in TV dramas, right?

"I’ll leave Julian to you," she said, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

I tried to protest, flustered. "Mrs. Foster, Julian and I—"

She cut me off, pulling a card from her designer purse and pressing it into my palm.