“Give me Lillian back,” she said, but before I could even take a breath or shape a reply, she turned away.
Her voice rang with something I couldn’t touch—grief maybe, or hate, or something older than both.
I turned back, helplessly, my chest tightening as I realized what made her stop mid-sentence—she had seen my parents.
I wanted to run after her. I wanted to scream her name and drag the truth out from wherever it was hiding, but my knees wouldn’t move. I stood there, frozen, like a scared little boy again.
“Why?” I whispered, more to myself than anyone.
The day passed in broken pieces after that.
No one spoke. Not even to ask if I'm okay
My mother had gone quiet—dangerously quiet. At home, she cooked, stirred, moved like a ghost through the kitchen, but didn’t eat a single bite. S
