I became pregnant with Gemma at seventeen; the father, a boy I went to high school with. He was never involved, opting to leave for college less than a month before Gemma was born. So, her biological father was a deadbeat and the one man she’d seen me with was dead. The last thing I wanted to do was create any more trauma in Gemma’s life. Taking her back home to Chicago needed to be a smooth transition, as easy on her as possible. My aunt and uncle were right about that, even if they weren’t what I was expecting.

Gemma deserves a mother who is healthy and sober. She deserves a happy home with me and her, no one else this time.

Determinedly, I scrubbed the heavy soup pot with a mesh sponge. My aunt and uncle’s rules were ridiculous, surely they wouldn’t make me keep to them?

I’d do whatever it took to win them over. How hard could it be to gain their trust?

Chapter Four

When the dishes were done and the food was all cleared, I seized the opportunity to excuse myself.

“If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll retire to my room. Unpack, maybe take a shower…”

Aunt Sara stood with her back pressed to the counter, a dainty cup of tea in both hands. Uncle Francis had disappeared after the plates were cleared; he seemed like the kind of man who considered cooking and clearing up to be ‘woman’s work’.

“That sounds fine, dear. Your suitcase is still in the library,” Sara said. By library, I presumed she meant the dusty sitting room at the front of the house with all the books and creepy decorations.

I’m not sure why I expected her to escort me to my room; there was something so antiquated about this visit, this house, that I’d almost come to expect it.

“Your room is upstairs. Second door on the left.” Sara’s eyes were glossy and distracted, and the way she held onto that teacup, as though it were the only thing keeping her still, reminded me of my own mother, jittery and nervous-like in the kitchen of our childhood home.

They’d been close once, Sara and my mother, Beth, before my mother’s diagnosis. Over the years, I’d practically forgotten they existed. Until they showed up to rescue Gemma.

Part of me wanted to ask her then, about her and my mother’s childhood. I never expected to lose my mom so young. There are so many things I wish I had learned about her, so many questions to ask before she went…