It doesn’t feel like even an hour when you notice your bladder again. Part of you wants to say your worrying over nothing, but another part is wondering if maybe you do need to go this time. You did drink most of the bottle, you realise. Still, it doesn’t seem fair to mama that you’d drag her off to the loo again.
Waiting in line for the lift, mama surprises you by nudging your shoulder.
“Ready?” she asks as the people in front get on.
You nod and move up. Glancing over your shoulder, there’s a group of three behind you. Given the growing queue, one of the lift attendants try to fill the empty spot on the three-person lift, but the lift sweeps under you and mama before anyone moves up.
