The room carried the faint smell of medicine, sweat, and stale tea. Pill bottles sat on the nightstand beside folded cloths and a half-empty glass of water. Clara noticed everything in scattered pieces, her mind refusing to settle on any detail long enough to process it.
Her mother’s lips trembled.
“You came home early.”
Clara stared at her.
Not hello.
Not I missed you.
Not forgive me.
You came home early.
As though Clara had interrupted something.continue reading …
