"Who are you?"
The question echoed through the room. The air in the room was thick with suspense, my eyes studied the woman before me.
"It's me peony, your mother" she tried to say, with a nervous chuckle her eyes darting around like she was scared to look at me.
"No, my mother was murdered, and I have been a fool to let my illusion cloud my judgment," I said.
"Who are you?" I asked again in a firmer tone, the tension in the room was palpable, I looked at her expecting an answer but she kept mute.
I had let grief blind me to the obvious, my heart sank at the powers I was fighting against. With a brave face, I moved closer to the being they claimed to be my mother.
"Here's what I have to say, I know you played on my guilt for not saving my mother, and I know I could never let go
