Paper Flowers

Prologue

Abelie never really knew our mother.

She never got to go on the spur of the moment beach trips or drink tea and chat about books at two in the morning. She never saw our Momma play Sleeping Beauty and spend her weeks in bed. She never saw our father make our mother cry, night after night after night.

Abelie was too young to watch the bruises blossom beneath Momma's skin and KNOW where they came from. She was too young to hide in her room and fear for her life when Dad was raging drunk. She never had to sit with Momma on the floor, backs against the locked door, the words hurled from the other side permanently singed into her memory.

Abelie didn't have to watch our momma slowly disappear until there was only a lifeless body left on the kitchen floor.

Our momma was beautiful, a dove with clipped wings. Her love was unconditional and infinite, even if you didn't deserve it at all. That love brought her downfall. She was a woman who wore pearls, a woman whose sorrow was etched deep into her delicate features. Our momma was cursed, and lovely, and broken.

When Momma died, her curse was passed on to me. It's my burden to bear. I just pray it will let my sweet little Abelie be.