Maybe I am overreacting, crying over pictures that were left behind, but I can't help it. There's an ache in my chest where I keep my mom, and I think anyone who has lost a parent can understand that.
It's like the more I think about her, the more I question if I'm remembering the right shade of blonde in her hair. Were her eyes blue like the sky or dark like the ocean? The pictured silenced the questions and stilled my mind. For a brief moment, a quick breath of a glance, the ache is gone, and it's like she'll walk through the door at any moment.
My tears quieted during our walk, but not completely stopped. The slow fat drops running down my cheek, dripping on my shirt with nothing but a quiet sniffle. I had hoped that Caspian would change his mind and take me back, despite the risks.
