Two months after the ink dried on our divorce papers, I found myself walking the sterile, fluorescent-lit halls of the Semmelweis Clinic

But the universe had arranged something far more devastating.

At the far end of the internal medicine wing, tucked into a desolate corner near a vending machine that hummed too loudly, I saw a woman in a faded hospital gown sitting on a cold plastic chair.

Her hair had been cut short. Her shoulders looked narrow beneath the thin fabric. Her hands rested continue reading …