She bats at her hair nervously, very careful not to make eye-contact lest she give something of herself away. Eyes are the windows to the soul and hers is so withered and virulent.
"Yes," she agrees faintly, a tremulous smile. "But I'll light my candles today."
As if that explains it all away, proves what a good mother she is.
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"Yes," she agrees faintly, a tremulous smile. "But I'll light my candles today."
As if that explains it all away, proves what a good mother she is.