I put down the toast and let that image of my mother framed in the kitchen doorway slice me open.
She didn’t deserve that. Both of my parents went through a lot before I came into their lives. And when I did arrive, they thought I was a blessing.
How did I repay their unconditional love?
A knock on the door startles me. I scramble to wipe away my tears. Before I can fully compose myself, it opens.
I’m taken aback to see a well-dressed woman stride into the room in a pair of teal pumps that complement her off-white power suit perfectly. She’s got a dazzling tan and brilliant blonde hair tied back in a tight, no-nonsense ponytail.
But what I’m most focused on is the sleek black briefcase in her hand. She wields it like a weapon.
“Hello, Willow,” she says in a voice that matches her loo
