Sienna woke on Monday morning with a strong feeling of dread. The nervous feeling she’d had before Alvar had left had only amplified. It hadn’t helped her mother who, when she’d visited the night before, had been in the worst possible mood. She’d slapped at Sienna more than once, had been violently throwing around anything she could get her hands on and had screamed at Sienna to leave.
The outbursts were becoming more and more frequent, and Sienna wasn’t sure how to cope with it. What she had done was come home, smoke more than she should have and feeling very much like she was having a pity party for one, crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep. She knew her response hadn’t been the healthiest of options, but it was what she had done.
Now her throat felt raw, her eyes felt swollen,
