Chapter Twenty Six
My speech was failing me no matter how hard I was trying.
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"I don't think, I don't think I, I don't think I know what I'm going to do," I said and I don't know how many times I had said that sentence. "I don't think… I don't know what I'm going to do." It was true, but I felt so pathetic for saying it over and over again.
Here I was, being one of those women crying over a man. I'd never, ever see my mother cry. I don't know how she did it, but she just watched her mate die and never shed a single tear over it. Perhaps that's exactly what led to her breaking point. Sometimes I do wonder if indeed everything haunted her to a point where she felt she couldn't bear and perhaps maybe seeing as everyone had always thought to say that I had
