A WHISPERING VOICE at the BACK of MY MIND REMINDS ME that Iâ€™VE BEEN THIS WAY for SOME TIME.DEAD, THAT

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Motherless

A WHISPERING VOICE at the BACK of MY MIND REMINDS ME that Iâ€™VE BEEN THIS WAY for SOME TIME.

DEAD, THAT IS.

The dead have a very broad view of the living, of actions performed out of sight, of thoughts believed to be private. I would know. Losing both parents is a trial no child should endure, and Marina and Dylan have endured enough. They deserve the one thing I could never give them: a motherâ€™s love.

A motherâ€™s love, and the truth.

My children have believed a lie about me for years and years. After all this time I can still feel their hurt in my heart. But the tether holding me to them is frayed from years of neglect . . . and I have to find a way to make my confession before it snaps.

But when the truth comes out, what other beasts will I unleash?

â€œWhy do we lie to the children?â€ someone asked me once.

â€œTo protect them,â€ I answered.

How terrible it is that they need protection from me.

Motherless