Thalia
The moment her name lit up on my screen, I froze. Mom.
My thumb hovered over the answer button. Part of me wanted to pick up immediately, to hear her voice and pretend that maybe things between us weren't beyond repair. But the memory of our last conversation stopped me cold. Her words had hurt more than I wanted to admit, and I could still hear them as clearly as if she were standing beside me.
The phone kept buzzing in my hand.
I stared at it, torn between answering and letting it ring. I missed her. That was the hardest part. Even after everything, some stubborn part of me still wanted my mother.
But I also knew what would happen if I picked up. The hurt I'd spent days trying to bury would come rushing back, and I wasn't sure I had the strength to go through it again.
So I
