“Mommy cried a lot.”

I swallowed hard, feeling an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over me.

My daughter, Christina, had always been stubborn and fiercely independent throughout her life.

She had disagreed with my decisions more times than I could possibly count over the years.

She had repeatedly tried to tell me that Florence was not the innocent, loving woman I believed her to be.

And I had foolishly dismissed every single one of her warnings.