WILLOW
Aunt Helen is exactly as I expect her to be. Upbeat. Eccentric. With no idea of personal boundaries.
She starts hugging me before I’m even out of the car. Her arms wrap around my neck, crushing me with the weight of her embrace. She smells heavily of perfume and body oils.
“Willow Thompson! Let me take a good look at you.” Even after she lets go of me, she remains lodged in my personal space, observing me closely, like I’m a precious object, which the moon goddess just dropped on earth. “Wow. You’re even prettier than your dad described.”
No, I’m not. I’m in bandages. I’ve got stitches. The last thing I feel is pretty.
“It’s good to finally meet you aunt Helen. Ca— my dad has told me a lot about you.”
“Please. Call me Helen.” She links her arm through mine. “We’re going to b
