“I see my mother standing at the threshold of the room. The look on her face—did she know? No time to let that bubble to the top. I’ve had enough of the revelations and the voices and the blood and the calling. I feel their weight at my back, a wind nipping at me—harsh and cold—but nurturing. It all comes to me in a single rush, a moment of clarity—an alcoholic’s epiphany. My eyes find focus on Ayah. On her scars—her lost hand—and I know what fuels her. I know what fuels me.
“Tonight. We begin the end of this mess tonight.”
The final passage before the finale of my WIP begins. Now I get to write the insanity I plotted months ago.
This is going to be so much fun.