me.
“I think Mom’s love scares me,” she admitted.
“What do you mean?”
She hesitated.
“Because it’s… unconditional,” she said. “And I don’t trust anything unconditional. I always feel like there’s a price.”
I closed my eyes.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
My sister’s voice cracked. “And I hate that I’m jealous of you.”
My throat tightened.
“I hate that I gave you a reason,continue reading …
