For a moment, I couldn't speak.
I had seen my mother's face for the first time only yesterday.
She had cried when I described the color of her eyes.
I had cried too.
Now I wondered whether those tears had been hiding something.
"Mom, do you remember what happened at the hospital after my playground accident?"
The silence was immediate.
"Of course I do."
"Did Dad authorize another procedure after I arrived?"
Another pause.
"Why are you asking?"
"Because Dr. Harris found records showing a second injury."
I heard something fall on her end of the phone.
"Mom?"
Her voice returned, trembling.
"Sarah, where did you hear that?"
"The hospital records."
"Oh, my God."
My stomach tightened.
"You knew?"
"No."
She began crying.
"Your father told me the playground injury had damaged both eyes. He said the doctors had done everything possible."
"Then why does the report say not to inform you?"
