own words to her.
“You told me I chose this life,” I said. “And don’t make it yours. You were right about one thing. I did choose it. I chose these boys and I chose their sister and I chose to show up. So here’s the difference between us. I chose this life and I won’t make it yours.”
My mother opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Finally, I turned toward Belle.
She was still trying to shape her face into something that might reach me.
“You want to know
