By Sarah Losardo … Cara dashed tears away from her face with the back of her hand, blinking hard in an attempt to see well enough to drive safely. Her twenty-year-old civic rattled a little at 70 miles per hour, but Cara was pretty sure it wasn’t anything serious. It certainly didn’t matter right now – all that mattered was getting home to Maryland to the side of her mother’s hospital bed.
Janice saw him there off in the distance as she sat in the food court at the mall all by herself. There her son was with her, that woman, that woman whose name she could not bring herself to say, not even to herself in her mind. This was her way of blocking out the past, never admitting that woman had ruined her life, never even admitting that woman ever existed.