I visited my mother at her nursing home every weekend without fail — banana bread in one hand, her favorite cardigan in the other. But this time, the receptionist gave me a puzzled look.
“She was discharged last week,” she said.
I froze. “What do you mean? I didn’t discharge her.”
Denise, the receptionist, double-checked. “Her daughter signed her out.”
“But I am her daughter,” I replied, heart pounding.
The name on the file? Lauren.
My estranged sister.
The same Lauren who disappeared ten years ago after a brutal fight with Mom. She never returned calls. Ignored my message about Mom’s dementia diagnosis. She hadn’t been part of our lives for a decade — until now.
And somehow, she had taken Mom.
I scrambled to track her down. Her old number was disconnected. No activity on her Facebook. But then I found something: a fresh Instagram account under the name The Sunrise Caregiver.Read More Below
