CASSY
Washington Square Park is crowded for a Tuesday afternoon. I'm standing near the fountain, my hands shoved in the pockets of the Burberry coat Sienna insisted I wear.
My phone buzzes.
Sienna: I'm here. You're not alone.
I don't respond. I'm scanning faces, looking for a stranger, probably someone from my past who wants to twist the knife Sienna has already buried in my chest.
Then I see someone who looks familiar… Mum? She looks different, even younger. Her hair is different… lighter, styled in soft waves instead of the severe bob she used to wear. And she looks HAPPY? What the hell is going on???
I can't process what I'm seeing right now. "Mum?"
Bridget Beaumont lowers her sunglasses. "Cassy?" she breathes. "Oh god, Cassy."
She rushes toward me, her arms outstretched to hug
