‘I don’t want you to go, Mum.’ Bonnie looked up at the ceiling for a moment and then back at me. I turned to kneel and lean into her, my arms around her body, my face in her chest. Her pyjama top was smooth on my cheek, and I breathed her in. She smelled of honey and death, and I let another wave of tears plunge me down. ‘Neither do I, my darling. But sometimes you can’t change your situation no matter what you do, and you have to be able to sit with that discomfort and ride it out.’ We stayed together, holding each other, for what felt like hours. My knees grew sore on the carpet. My arms
...more
