“Because you finally looked happy.”
The words hit harder than they should have.
Clara hated that.
She hated that some wounded part of her still responded to this woman’s softness. Still remembered childhood mornings before everything became ugly. Before alcohol. Before violence. Before fear settled permanently into every room they lived in.
“You don’t get to decide that for me,” Clara said.
“I know.”
“No,” Clara snapped suddenly, emotion finally breaking through. “You don’t know. You never knew.”
Daniel stepped forward cautiously.
“Mom—”
“Stay out of this.”continue reading …
