But how could this stranger possibly know her?
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I stepped out into the hallway.
Standing there was a gray-haired man of about sixty. His eyes were red, and his hands were trembling.
“Are you Daniel?” he asked.
“Yes. How do you know my mother’s name?”
The man remained silent for a moment.
“Because twelve years ago, your mother tried to save my wife.”
My heart began beating faster.
Twelve years earlier, my mother had also worked as a nurse. She had left her job after an incident she never wanted to talk about.
“Your daughter doesn’t want to see you,” I said. “You need to respect her wishes.”
The man sat down on a chair in the hallway.
“I know. And I’m the only one to blame for that.”
His name was Robert.
He explained that twelve years earlier, his wife, Sarah, had suffered a severe nervous breakdown. She had been unwell for months, and Robert, frightened and unable to understand the situation, had allowed her family to take her to another city for treatment.
