“I know, Lena. I know,” I murmur, supporting her weight as I ease her back into the chair York has picked up off the floor and placed behind her. “She’s never coming back, is she?” she asks me as she cries for a mother who loved her fiercely but never extended that same kind of love, any kind of love, to me. “Pen, tell me this is all a dream. Tell me Mum’s okay. Please.” I shake my head, blinking back my own tears, refusing to let them fall, determined to remain strong, unbreakable. I dig deep, knowing that all I can do right now is tell her the truth. “Mum’s never coming back, Lena. I’m
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