GRETA:
"Mum, you promised to read me a story tonight." I remind my mother in my tiny voice, looking up at her tired face and messy blond hair. She looks just like me. The only difference is her eyes. While she has green eyes, mine are hazel; a combination of honey brown and sage green.
My eyes flutter close for a moment when she brushes my hair back. "Yes, I did. But tonight, I won't be reading from a book. I'll be telling you a story about your Dad."
"My Dad?" My eyes light up and when I sit up, she plants a kiss on my forehead before brushing strands of my hair behind my ear.
I never met my Dad and I'd always asked about him. She never really liked to talk about him but tonight, she seems ready to. I guess I have gotten to that age where she can comfortably tell me about him.
She
