Maurice
I turned to my mother, Marla, with a sense of urgency gnawing at me. "Mom," I began, my voice tinged with apprehension, "when are we going to do the astral projection?"
Marla regarded me with a thoughtful expression, her brow furrowed in contemplation. "We need to proceed carefully, Maurice," she replied, her tone measured. "Before we can attempt the astral projection, we need to devise a plan to make it believable that you've suddenly become depressed and are considering ending your own life."
I sighed heavily, the weight of our deceit pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. "I understand," I murmured, my heart heavy with the burden of our deception. "But how are we going to pull it off without raising suspicion?"
Marla's lips curved into a wry smile, a glint of determinati
