I Was About to Marry My Mistress, 30 Years Younger Than Me.
I stared closely at the image through the glass.
“Who is that woman standing next to Margaret?”
“That is my late mother,” Florence answered simply through the door.
I felt an icy chill run down my spine.
“You explicitly lied to me and said your mother died when you were a baby.”
“She passed away later,” Florence replied without emotion.