**Gia's POV**
Even tied down to a chair, my mother looked impeccable as always. When she first arrived, beaten, scared, and an absolute mess, it was like seeing a completely different person. Her husband wanted us to look picture-perfect at all times. Not one hair out of place, clothes tailored, smiles rehearsed. My mask had slipped many times over the years, but never hers. Mother was an expert actress. Which made me wary to believe her now. But still, she was my mom and I still loved her. A part of me wondered if she ever loved me to allow me to suffer so much.
Her eyes stayed focused on me, her face soft but controlled. No fear, pain, just a blank expression. I took a seat on the couch across from her. I had to keep reminding myself not to wrap my arms around my belly like I wanted.
