I came back home without warning anyone

“Ana?” she whispered, dropping the hose from her hands. “Oh, dear God… you’re back.”

I crossed the street quickly, my pulse beating in my ears. “Where’s Mihai?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Her lips quivered. “You didn’t know?”

The world around me seemed to fade. “Know what?”

Tereza hesitated, her eyes filling with tears. “He’s… he’s been in the hospital for two weeks. They took him to the intensive care unit in La Paz. It was sudden — something with his heart, they said. Ana came for a few days, but then… she left.”

I stood frozen, unable to breathe. My son, my only son… in the hospital. “Which hospital?” I demanded.

“General Hospital, downtown,” she said softly. “Room 204, I think. But, Ana… she hasn’t come back since.”

I didn’t wait to hear more. I turned and ran back to the taxi. “Hospital General de La Paz,” I said, almost shouting. The driver nodded, startled by the urgency in my voice.

The car sped off through the morning streets, and my mind was racing faster than the engine. How could Ana leave him alone? How could she abandon him when he needed her most? I remembered every call she had made, every lie she had told about how well he was doing. And I believed her — I wanted to believe her.

When we arrived, I jumped out before the taxi stopped completely. The smell of disinfectant hit me like a punch. I ran through the corridors, searching for Room 204. My boots echoed against the cold tiles.

When I opened the door, the air left my lungs. Mihai lay pale and motionless, tubes running across his chest, machines beeping in rhythm with his fragile pulse. His beard had grown, his skin was thin and dry. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming — that the strong young man I had raised couldn’t possibly be this weak body before me.

I sat beside him and took his hand. It was cold. “Mama’s here, Mihai,” I whispered. “You’re not alone anymore.”

His eyelids fluttered slightly. A tear rolled down my cheek. I had faced war zones, seen death in every form, but nothing — nothing — prepared me for the sight of my child like this.

The doctor entered quietly. “You must be his mother,” he said. “He’s stable now, but it’s been difficult. He hasn’t had visitors for several days.”

I nodded, unable to speak. “Will he recover?”

The doctor sighed. “If he rests, eats properly, and avoids stress… yes. But he needs care — real care.”

I clenched my fists. “He will have it,” I said, my voice steady. “From now on, I’ll take care of him myself.”

When the doctor left, I sat in silence, watching my son breathe. Hours passed like seconds. I thought about every battle I had fought, every life I had saved — yet somehow, I had failed to protect the one person who mattered most.

By the time Mihai opened his eyes fully, the sun had set. He looked at me in confusion. “Mom?” he murmured weakly.

“Yes, my love. I’m here.”

His lips trembled. “Ana… she took the money. She said she’d be back… but—”

“Shh,” I said gently, placing my hand on his forehead. “Don’t think about her. Think about getting better.”

He tried to smile. “You always come back,” he whispered.

And in that moment, I realized something — coming home wasn’t about ending a mission. It was about beginning one that truly mattered.

I spent the next weeks by his side. Little by little, Mihai regained his strength. When he finally managed to stand, the first thing he did was look out the window toward the sea.

“Home,” he said softly.

I smiled, feeling that same golden light from the morning sun washing over us again. I had kept my promise. I had come home. And this time, I wasn’t leaving again.