When I Was Four, My Mother Left Me Alone in a Church—Twenty Years Later She Returned Crying, “We Need You”
I kept the rabbit.
Still did not call her Mom.
No contradiction.
Florence eventually died at eighty-nine.
That loss almost broke me in a way my biological parents’ return never had.
She died at home.
Leo came.
Hannah, seventeen then, played the piano at the funeral.
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