3
SEVEN HOURS EARLIER…
Chelsea used the sleeves of her sweatshirt to wipe the tears on her face. A calmness enveloped her as she stared through the window pane, focusing on the antics of a black squirrel running up the bark of a tree. The sun disappeared around the corner of the house and the room chilled. Goose bumps rose on her skin. She ran her hands up and down her arms over her sweatshirt to warm them while reliving the confrontation with her daughter. Sydney’s hurtful words forced Chelsea to assess the past nine months, to re-evaluate her actions and face her failures. She tried to imagine it all from her mother and daughter’s perspective.
A burst of jumbled ideas assaulted her mind. One word rose to the surface above the quick succession of thoughts that opened her to an awarenes
