Chapter 59:Forty Three Percent Chance
Sedona's POV
She fed me carefully, like I was a child, and I let her because it seemed important to her that she did so, so she could feel better about doing something that relieved a great deal of pain for me and also because I genuinely didn't have the strength to hold the spoon steady. The soup was warm and perfect—exactly what my abused stomach could handle.
Between spoonfuls, I studied my mother's face. She looked tired, worn in a way I didn't remember from before I left Seattle. There were new lines around her eyes, gray threading through her hair that hadn't been there five years ago.
I'd done that. My disappearance, my silence, five years of not knowing if I was alive or dead—I'd aged my mother in ways that time alone wouldn't have done
