Amara’s POV
It was a dream.
Never in a million years would I have thought that my mother was capable of such cruelty. Not when I was little. Not when she taught me how to be the woman of our family.
She was always too concerned with my image. My clothes, my posture, my food, my weight, my appearance in a dress.
She would always remind me about being careful. Say that I shouldn't eat too much or I would become fat. Say that a woman of our family should always look perfect.
It was so normal for me to hear those words that I stopped noticing that they weren't actually my words. That those weren't her words. That those were my own.
That was the most horrifying realization of all.
I woke up on the bathroom floor, my back pressed against the cold tiles. My stomach was empty once again, an
