LEENA
It’s been a week, and we haven’t heard from the Henrys, a whole week of peace. We don’t know whether someone was sent to save my father, nor do we know if anyone found Aunt Carissa’s body and buried it.
“Good morning, Mama,” I greet when I walk into the guest room where she has been spending her nights, a tray in my hands. “How are you doing today?”
“I’m much better,” she says, slowly sitting up and then leaning against the headboard. She does look a lot better. With William’s help, I got a nurse to take care of her.
I put the tray on the nightstand and sit on the bed facing her. “I’m glad you feel better.”
She smiles and for the first time since we came here, her smile is bright. “Can we talk about everything now?”
She has been asking the same question every morning when I wa
