My mom skims me again. “You really don’t remember that night?” I shake my head slowly, then faster. “Not a single second.” She inhales deeply, a breath of relief. Her shoulders relax like weight levitates off her. “I’m so glad, Luna. So, so glad.” Tears prick her eyes. “I’m not,” I croak. My gaze burns. “You shouldn’t have to carry that night on your own. I was with you, Mom.” “I want to,” she whispers, touching my cheek softly. “I’m happy to. I’m your mom. That’s what moms do.” She nods resolutely.
