They Held My Funeral While I Was Still Breathing. Then My Seven-Year-Old Nephew Looked Into the Coffin and Said, “Mommy, Aunt Madelyn Is Looking at Me”
It won.
Whatever she’d gotten wrong across a lifetime, when her child made a sound from inside a box, no reasonable man’s voice on earth was going to keep her hand off that lid.
I have forgiven my mother a great many things for that single refusal.
She did not manage to protect me from the people she let in.
But when it counted down to seconds, she would not be talked out of her own daughter, and that is the reason I am alive to tell any of this.
Chapter 7 — Catalepsy
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