EARS
y start college. I could start dating. A new school would mean new people who didn't know about the cancer. I'd meet boys who wouldn't look at me with pity. It would be a fresh start for both me and my mom. Especially for my mom. Lately, she'd been a
a glass. Shards were scattered across the floor and she was already reaching f
you again,
spoke, "Pack your bags, Kr
I don't understand. Why don't we
. He has friends at the police d
ut
go, Kr
he worked from home as a graphic designer. It gave her freedom to use her time the way she wanted, which sadly had mostly comprised of hospital visits with me. It also meant that she had hardly any social life. So when she told me she'd met a guy, I was ecstatic for her. W
hen I'd found my mom battered and bruised in the bathroom. She had belie
Grimm. The original ones of course, not the Disney version. No matter how sick or sad I was, whether I was puking my guts out from the chemo or my ha
ack downstairs. She wasn't in the kitchen anymore but the floor was pristinely clean. I heard muffled sound
I said I need to speak to y
didn't give the right response, because
you can't talk to him right now? Fine," my mother snapped. "If he can't bo
on her desk, which was my
in, Mom rarely talked about her past or any family. All I knew was that they had died in a tra
utched the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white. I didn't op
are we
d. The only man I know
t, this one was king. Wait, w
she didn't answer, my heart did a pa
ourse, I mean
is this
ime ago. She died a few years after you were born. Kostya was only sev
does he
nve
ike a cop or
vously on the steering
the car seat and closed my eyes. "You know you're only getting away
on't worry. I'll tell yo
"there"
ived a thousand lives through my heroines' eyes. I'd been all over the world with them, falling in love with m