Articles by lang nguyen

The call came from University Hospital at 9:30 p.m. on a Friday night, the kind of call that rearranges your understanding of time. I was […]

My name is Whitney, and I’m thirty-six years old. I can still remember the exact sound the fork made when it clattered against my plate […]

My name is Mallalerie Reed, and for twelve years, my parents told the world I was dead. Not estranged. Not lost touch. Not “we don’t […]

The knock came just after dinner—three sharp, deliberate taps that made the house feel suddenly smaller. I was rinsing Jasmine’s favorite bowl in the sink, […]

I remember the exact sound my arm made when it broke. It wasn’t a snap like you hear in movies—it was more like a wet […]

I was in sweatpants that night, slouched on the couch with a laptop balanced on my knees, staring at a spreadsheet that refused to cooperate […]

My name is Maya, I’m thirty-one, the oldest daughter, the fixer, the reliable one who always knows where the charger is, who keeps the group […]

I’m still shaking as I write this. Almost two years have passed, yet I can still hear the pulse oximeter screaming through the living room, […]

The house was still, heavy with the kind of silence that comes after midnight but before dawn. I was half asleep, drifting in the kind […]

Two days ago, my son Jay came to my work, crying so hard he could barely talk. I’d been on shift since early morning, trying […]