twenty-four
☾
My mother loved gardening from what my father told me. Every day she'd spend hours in her private gardens behind the packhouse. She grew vegetables, rare flora, medicinal herbs the pack doctor scoffed at whenever she offered him some to use for his practice. He preferred the modern way of healing.
Father told me, my mother refused to give Caleb up to the doctors whenever he got hurt. She said they didn't know their right from their left and wouldn't trust him with a bar of Snickers.
So instead, she used her own herbs and medicines she learned from her home to fix him up. Maybe that's why he's never been sick in his twenty-four years of life.
As I strolled through the garden, running my hands over the healthy pink petunias, I felt her presence on the back of my neck. My
