Abby’s face crumples. “You know how hard it is, baby.” “I don’t care.” She fists her hands in her hair, taking in a ragged breath. “You’re supposed to be my mother. You take care of me, not the other way around.” She sobs. “I made you a promise and you promised me back.” Abby doesn’t say anything. The cigarette slips from her fingers, and I step forward before she can, grinding it underneath my heel. “Mom,” Bex whispers. “Tell me you remember. You made me promise.” But Abby doesn’t say a word.
