Victoria Prescott with her salon-maintained blonde perfection—but not the embarrassment Amber had portrayed, either.
I thought back over the years: Halloween costumes sewn late into the night, school lunches packed with handwritten notes, college care packages, quiet support through Amber’s first heartbreak. I’d made mistakes—certainly, all parents do—but the worst mother anyone could have?
My phone buzzed with a text from Amber.
Where did you go? The planner needs to go over your entrance timing again.
No apology. No acknowledgement of the cruel words still reverberating in my head. Just
