Rhea
It’s like my entire world ends with those words. I’ve come too late by a week. I couldn’t save her. I couldn't even give her one last glimpse of myself, a final fleeting moment for her to take to the grave knowing that her only child was alive and well. She would've died wondering where in the world I was, and if I was even alive at all.
The tears start to flow, and I do nothing to stop them, or hold them back. I feel no shame over them, even with the man watching me from where he sits with the table between us. What else am I to do when I’ve now been tossed mercilessly into a world where I no longer have anyone left to call family.
The man, who appears to be used to having tears shed before him, rises from his seat and comes to hand me a handkerchief which I gratefully take from h
