I
After a few sleepless evenings of meeting Victoria beneath what I’d come to know as “our tree,” I couldn’t hide my exhaustion. One morning, after my father made his way to work, my mother sat down with me at our small dining table and passed me a mug.
“It’s hot, make sure you sip it,” she cradled her own cup between her hands.
“Hot chocolate?” No amount of sleep deprivation could hide my excitement. We only had hot chocolate on special occasions- the price was outrageous.
“That it is, dearest,” she smiled, deepening the lines in the corners of her eyes and mouth. Guinevere Reyner loved with all her heart and laughed without inhibition. “I know you’ve been out the past few nights.”
I had the decency to look guilty. “I…um…”
“I know you have a hard time sleeping sometimes. Your mother
