The Year We Hid Away (The Ivy Years, #2)

by Sarina Bowen

At my house, we’d never talked about sex. We were New Englanders. We talked about sports and the weather.

My mother was a piece of work. There could be a lynch mob on our front yard, burning a cross into the lawn, and she would stand in the kitchen with a perfect manicure and spout cooking advice.

“She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom.” — The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne