Last Chance Luna: The Bond Wouldn't Heal Her novel · Chapter 15 of 24

Chapter 15: Her Mother's Kitchen

The bakery was dark except for the ovens.

It was ten to four, and the street was empty under the one lamp on Main.

Roe had driven me to the back door and stayed in the truck.

He had said he would, and he would sit there with the heater running until I came out.

I went in on my cane.

The back kitchen smelled of yeast and warm butter, the way it had smelled my whole life.

My mother stood at the long steel table with her sleeves rolled to the elbow.

Flour covered her forearms.

She was kneading, hard.

She did not look up.

"Sit," she said. "There's a stool."

I sat.

The stool was the one I had used as a child.

She worked the dough for a full minute without a word.

Then she slapped it down, wiped her hands on her apron, and turned around.

Her eyes were red, and she had not slept.

"I've been wrong for six years," she said.

"Mama-"

"Let me say it. I practiced in the shower."

I closed my mouth.

"When you got sick, I went to the old healer," she said. "She told me about the saying. I held on to it like a rope."

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