You. Are. A. Terrible. Mother.
I shake that thought from my head, too. Because no, I am actually a fantastic mother who’s finally found someone who is a fantastic father to my—our—beautiful daughter.
Who, I discover before even opening the door to his office, is screaming her head off at the top of her lungs.
Bambi meets me on her way out, flustered and doing her damned hardest not to show her frustration. “I swear, Clara, everything was fine! She was fine! We ate breakfast, we got into the car, we drove into the city…”
Oh, no. This was meant to be her first day back to school since the shooting.
The shooting that happened at that exact same location.
“Did it start when you pulled in?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Bambi nods with a heavy sigh. “Yes! Just screaming and clawing
