did that too well.”
Melissa wiped beneath one eye.
“I didn’t mean you weren’t worth anything.”
“I know you didn’t.”
Mom’s voice trembled slightly.
“But for one moment yesterday, that’s how it felt.”
Melissa sat down.
And for the first time since Mom opened the drawer, she stopped defending herself.
Her eyes drifted toward the scrapbook.
She picked it up.
Several pages had bent when she grabbed it earlier.
She carefully flattened one with her palm.
It contained a Mother’s Day card Melissa had made when she was seven.
The
