My Ex's Betrayal, My Mother's Ashes

Osborn

a serpent. "I cannot. I

y. A single mouthful could close my throat.

ear. Am I making you uncomfortable again? Perhaps I should simply

eyes of his parents, my mother, and their guests were all upon us. "Amira, do not make

beer into my hand. Carter had struck him, a single, decisive blow, his voice ringing with a righteous fury. "She said

a physical pan

age of my mother's smiling face in my mind, and drained the effervescent liquid in o

, then the angry red welts that bloomed across my skin. My throa

ysician. I could not risk my mother seeing me in such

acted. He swept me into his arms and carried me out

a defense of her. "Francine did not know, Amira. She feels dreadfu

ice an abrasive rasp against my raw nerves. I wanted to scream, to laugh at the sheer

tamines performed their function, and the suffocating pressure in my

y eyes fluttered open. The room was dark, silent. Carter was gone. I looked at m

repeatedly, but no one came. A damp chill, born not of the room's tempe

ing beside me. I had to find help. I stumbled to the door and pushed, but

oat. I pounded on the door, my voice a ho

a sound from the adjacent room. A woman's br

ere sickenin

And Fr

my own blood siphoning back into my veins and the call

ut the night, my throat growing raw, my fists bruising against the wood. And throughout the night,

ction outside my door was moved. Carter entered, looking refreshed

my face. The practiced mask of solicitude dropped into place over his f

ne in my chest. I no longer possessed the energy f

loying perfume of gardenia and musk that always announced her presence. The smell fille

ing for doctors, performing the part of the

table, began to ring. It was the property manager from my mo

at once. It is your mother.