[Adelaide Knowles]
“I want to speak to my daughter,” my mom announces, her eyes waving flashes of restrained patience which stretches down her tone.
Christian is the opposite. While he may be poker face most times, it was almost impossible to not see the smile—like the expression of one whose long awaited game just stirred in his favor—dangling at the corners of his lips. “By all means, Lily. You know what to do.”
I arch my brows at the both of them, “And, I am right here,”
My mom reaches out to rub my hands soothingly, “Of course, you are.”
“Mama, what is the problem?” concern edging my tone, “You barely visit because of your medications and when you do, it seems like…”
“Maybe I just realized what sort of shitty mama I've been,” she cuts in, a wry smile on her face. “And all thes
