The Hidden Lines of the Family Land We Shared

crunching under my boots.

My mother opened her door and stepped out into the damp air, her blue woolen scarf wrapped twice around her neck.

She looked at the heavy iron gate, which was still secured with the chain Arthur had put there three weeks ago.

“Nicole,” she whispered, her voice carrying softly through the quiet grove. “Is it over?”

“Yes, Mom,” continue reading …