My mom had spent the past few months murdering my friends, attacking whoever she felt like, including me, and cursing my boyfriend and his family. Now she was dead. Whether she was crazy, hexed, or had been corrupted by a demon was a moot point. In a way, I knew it would always end like this. Maybe not like this, but I knew things would never be the same. We might as well have buried her the day we buried Owen since that was the day my mother really died. That thing hanging there wasn’t my mom. That was an imposter, someone who’d lived in our house for the past six years but hadn’t been a part
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