Morning Ignorance
By morning, the world appeared unchanged, yet everything felt starkly different. I trudged into the kitchen, only to find Linda calmly flipping pancakes, as if it were just another ordinary day. “Morning, Alex,” she said brightly, her tone unnervingly casual, as though Luna had simply gone on a brief holiday. Her nonchalance was staggering—I couldn’t ignore it. “Was it that easy for you?” I asked, my voice cutting through the air. She shrugged, her answer as indifferent as her demeanor. “You’ll see—it’s for the best,” she replied.
Morning Ignorance
Confronting Her Again
I pressed on, unwilling to settle for vague excuses. “Where exactly did you give Luna away, Mom?” I asked, my tone firm. Linda kept her gaze fixed on her plate, cutting into her pancakes with deliberate precision. “She’s in a better place,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. It wasn’t an answer—it was yet another attempt to deflect. “A better place? What does that even mean?” I insisted, frustration creeping into my voice. Linda let out a weary sigh. “Alex, it’s done. Let it go. Focus on what really matters.” But she didn’t understand—Luna did matter. Far more than Linda seemed willing to admit.
Confronting Her Again
