Olivia Westview
I pushed open the door to my house, the familiar scent of my mom's cooking filling the air.
“Olivia, is that you?” Mom’s voice called out from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mom, it’s me,” I replied as I dropped my bag by the door and kicked off my shoes. I walked into the kitchen, and found her at the stove, stirring something that smelled amazing. She glanced up at me with a smile, but it quickly faded when she saw my face.
“How was your day, sweetie?” she asked, turning down the heat on the stove. I could see the concern in her eyes, the kind only a mother could have.
I forced a smile. “It was okay. Just... a lot of work.” My response was vague, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain more. The last thing I wanted was to unload everything on her.
And can I really tell her ab
