“We all have skeletons in our closets, they say. My family included.
But ours hid in the attic, not the closet. They hid among the journals, photos, shoe boxes, wedding dress, and board games.
Ours were tumbling out.
I had to clean up the mess alone—hide the evidence.
If this is what new beginnings looked like, I didn’t want one. If starting over meant facing the ghosts that haunt the past, I wanted to keep the past.
But there was no going back. I knew too much.
I’d seen the bones. I’d met the monsters.
My parents wore masks to make them look happy, to hide secrets, to tell us they loved us. Even I wore a mask to hide my own monster. But now the masks had fallen off, and sliding them back on wouldn’t hide the truth anymore. What was seen could not be unseen.
The new beginning was here to be faced, like it or hate it.”
―
Abigail Hayven,
The Colors Of Rain
