"Mom…" I stuttered.

“Sit.” The firm order was enough to make me not argue about the fact that I was only tying a towel and would definitely need clothes.

I occupied the sofa opposite her, trying not to shiver to death from fear. I knew those looks in her eyes, and I did not like them, not one bit. I had done wrong, keeping away this secret all these years from her. Knowing when she defended, how much she lost in the process. 

I wanted to beg. To plead for mercy, but ...