Hazel

A cold dread settled in my stomach as my mother helped me into the car. Closing my eyes, a wave of memories crashed over me – William's fury, the echoing screams, a whirlwind of despair.  Her gaze burned into me as she turned to me.

"Hazel," her voice was sharp, "you're a mess. Talk to me. I want to know what is bothering you"

“I’m fine, mom,” I mumbled, the lie hollow on my tongue.

“I know you, Hazel. I know because I’m your mother. When you say you’re fine, then something ...