I sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of the woman in front of me. The only word swirling around in my mind was haggard. She looked so incredibly beaten down. I fought back the sympathy that was taking flight in my belly. I reminded myself of that terrified phone call I’d received so many years ago. I reminded myself of the brick. The cuts on Mia’s face. Everything in me hardened.

“Mom.”

She blinked rapidly at me. “Caelyn. What are you doing here?”

No, “Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you, baby girl.” No begging for forgiveness. Just wondering why the hell I was here and bothering her.

“I need to talk to you.”

She glanced around the trailer park as if looking for someone. Was it her dealer? Someone she didn’t want me to know she was associating with? “All right.” She stepped back into the small space. “Do you want something to drink?”

My gaze jumped around the living space and kitchenette. Everything was surprisingly clean and tidy. “No, I’m fine.”

My mom eased into a recliner that looked like it had seen better days. “What happened to your head?”

I ignored her question. “Were you on Anchor last week?”

She stiffened, the slight rocking of her recliner stilling. She licked her lips. “I needed to see you guys. I wasn’t going to talk to you. I just had to see with my own eyes how you were.”

“You needed to see us?” I parroted. I couldn’t seem to say anything else.

“Mia’s so big.” Tears filled my mother’s eyes. “And Ava. She’s almost a young lady now.”

“She’s still a child,” I bit back. “And seeing you would confuse her. And cause her a tremendous amount of pain.”

Color leached from Mom’s face. “I know. That’s why I didn’t try and talk to you. I just needed to see.”

“You haven’t earned the right to see anything.”

“I know I haven’t. But I always was selfish.”

The admission startled me into silence for a moment. I simply stared at the woman in front of me, trying to read beneath the surface, to ferret out the truth. “Did you leave a note on my car?”

Her eyes widened. “No. I swear. The cops came asking about it, and I told them the same thing.”

“Did you throw a brick through my window last night?”

Mom straightened in her chair. “No, I did not. What the hell is going on? Someone threw a brick through your car window?”

If she was lying, she was one hell of an actress. I shook my head. “Through the window of our house.”