Drawing in a slow breath, I pressed the doorbell. My mother opened it, and her eyes grew wide as if she had seen an apparition.
“Summer! Sweetheart… you’re home,” Abigail whispered.
She gave me only the briefest embrace, her body tense.
Then her gaze traveled from my face to my feet.
“You’ve become so skinny. My poor girl, you must have gone through so much in there,” she murmured.
If I had not overheard her moments earlier, I might actually have believed those words.
“I’m alright, Mom,” I answered, forcing down the ache in my throat. “I came here directly from the state prison.”
The instant I stepped into the living room, Sheila walked over carrying a bottle of rubbing alcohol.
Without even greeting me, she began spraying me from my shoulders all the way to my shoes.
“Don’t take it personally,” Sheila said as she emptied the bottle over my clothing. “I’m just washing away the bad energy from where you’ve been.”
