I slumped onto my childhood bed, the springs groaning a familiar, comforting complaint. The dam finally broke, and this time, it grew worse than before. It wasn’t a gentle cry; it was a body-wracking storm. Sobs tore from my throat, raw and ugly. I buried my face in the pillow. I didn’t want to give Mom the satisfaction of hearing me fall apart, not when she’d be so quick to tell me it was my own fault.
The door creaked open. A sliver of hall light cut across the dark room, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air like forgotten memories. I froze, my sobs catching in my throat. I didn’t turn; I couldn’t bear to see my mom's face, the pinched expression of fury and frustration.
“Millicent?” Her voice was soft, too soft.
I braced myself for the insults, the recriminations, the “
