Chapter 41

• MONIQUE
• I was a loving daughter, always eager for my parents' attention. But as I entered adolescence, their business consumed them. I remembered the hollow ache I felt when their focus shifted away from me, how I would sulk and brood, convinced they had stopped caring. There were days I wanted to throw a tantrum, scream at them for always being too busy, for not noticing how much I missed them.
• But one day, when I came home from school, Mother called me into the kitchen, her graceful figure perched on a stool by the counter. She looked perfect, as always, in a crisp white suit, sipping hot chocolate. Without a word, she passed me her mug, a gesture that I was used to. I took a sip, unsure of what was coming next.