Chapter Eighteen
Jasmine
That morning, I went out to my parents’ place for breakfast. My mother, Gloria Phillips, met me on the porch, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her gaze warm as she smiled at me. Her blonde hair was streaked with gray now, but her blue eyes were as bright as ever. She was the kind of beauty that looked better with wrinkles. They simply gave her a quality of timelessness.
She wore a pair of royal blue, swingy cotton pants and a heather gray T-shirt. As soon as I stepped onto the porch, she tugged me into a hug, dropping a kiss on my cheek and then looping her elbow through mine. I walked beside her into the kitchen.
“Your father’s out and about, so it’s a perfect day for breakfast. I’m making omelets, and I’ve already started coffee.”
I slipped onto a st
