Pandilla

By Easton Livingston

"We have to pray to the beast."

A dangerous gang has taken over the north side of Toledo, Ohio. In a brief time, they have gained hundreds of members, rivaling the police force. Local law enforcement struggle to contain their rise to power as they threaten to overtake the city.

Detective Samuel Neff has been assigned a leadership role in the special task force created to deal with this problem. But when one of the most gruesome murders in the city's history turns out to be his gang informant, it prompts him to call in his friends, the Makarios Cadre.

As the Makarios Cadre investigates, they find things aren't what they seem on the surface. Something is behind the gang's growth and operations. It's only when one of their own is kidnapped when they discover the depths of the darkness they face as they fight to rescue them. But can they do it before ancient history repeats itself?

Start your journey into Easton Livingston's fifth novel, taking place in his Reality Imagination Universe. In this new series of supernatural suspense, he brings back the family team of investigative heroes who started it all in his book, The Dark Corner — the Makarios Cadre.

Grab your copy of Pandilla now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Easton Livingston
• Release date: Dec 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005112479

Easton Livingston

Easton Livingston is a published semi-professional writer, having written articles for national magazine publications, newspapers, online websites, and graphic novels. His current foray as a fiction author has him specializing in sci-fi/fantasy (high and urban), action-adventure, and suspense, often weaving different elements of those genres together. Currently he is working on a his short story series, The Dark Corner, a collection of urban fantasy suspense tales. He is also beginning work on his first novel, Blackson's Revenge: Book I of the Poltergeist Chronicle, a gritty, urban sci-fi, action-adventure.

Book preview

Visitations

For anyone who was to look at Horace Mathison, it would be very difficult to see he was insane. There were no telltale signs. Horace wasn’t different looking from most people. He had brown hair slicked back on the top of his head (they liked to keep you looking presentable in a mental hospital). His facial features were not remarkable, but he wasn’t plain. Clean-shaven. Average build. Mildly handsome. His only catching feature were his light blue eyes. They almost glowed, they were so bright. It was an attractive feature to many women, but often had a quality that unnerved the onlooker. It certainly made him stand out, but nothing to reveal he had lost his mind.

This, of course, was not Horace’s assessment of himself. Not anymore. True — he was the one who had checked himself into the Northwest Ohio Psychiatric Hospital because he had been seeing… things. Things considered in a modern world to be preposterous.

At first, he tried to ignore them, thinking maybe he could do the same thing as the famous mathematician John Nash did in the movie A Beautiful Mind. To him, what he saw was as real as the chair he sat in at that moment. It was as real as the cars passing by on South Detroit Avenue as he stared out the window. He tried to ignore the visions, but they became more frequent intrusions into his life. It got to a point where it was so bad; he checked himself into the hospital.

That was a scary time. It was terrifying to think he couldn’t trust his own mind. If he couldn’t trust his own mind, how in the world could he differentiate between what was real and what was not? The contemporary world had made some amazing progress in the fields of psychiatry. Not only there, but in the whole scientific span across the board. He had confidence they could fix him.

It perplexed him. Why was it happening? Had he offended God and as punishment called down His judgment upon Horace’s head like King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon? Was there some height of pride in his life so repulsive that God deemed it necessary to chastise him? It was a mystery.

To say he did not go through a crisis of faith would have been a lie. Horace had been a deep believer in Jesus Christ. He dedicated his life to that pursuit in everything he did. His infected worldview permeated with the Gospel. That by itself was enough to label him weird and crazy to many. Didn’t he get the memo? God was dead. The world meandered along quite well without Him. Though atheism was on the rise, millions still held on to the fanciful myth of God. The man upstairs which they mockingly described as a Santa Claus with a beard sitting on a throne.

Horace had read the Bible many times throughout his journey of faith. His conversion had come just twelve years earlier. He was not down on his luck or at a low point in his life. He had some prior training, going to private school in his junior high and high school days. Fellow students would nod and shake their heads in acquiescence on the outside when they had no interest on the inside. Horace was an exception. The biblical narratives fascinated him. There was something about the stories that rang true. The poetry was rich and moving. The tenets lofty and severe. But like many young men, it was more important for him to be accepted by his peers. So he kept it to himself, going along with the crowd. In other words, it didn’t take.

He lived life, landing a job as a network administrator. Made good money. Had family and friends who were proud of his accomplishments. Lived in a small single-family home that was easy for him to afford on his salary in a quiet little neighborhood on the west side of Toledo. He had friends and girlfriends, most of whom he kept in his life. There weren’t too many people he would ever cut off. That wasn’t in him. Even when they deserved it, he would be there for them in some capacity. Life was as normal as anyone would expect.

It all turned on its head the day the man appeared to him out of nowhere. One moment, he was alone watching reruns of The X-Files in his living room. The next, a man stood there in a white robe. It happened in a literal blink of an eye during a Pringles commercial.

Horace didn’t know what was in front of him at first. He blinked a few times to focus. The man just stood there, staring at him.

Horace. Horace Mathison.

His mouth dropped as he looked away, trying to process what was going on. When he turned back, the man was still there. Horace jumped off of the couch.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house? How did you get in my house?"

The man stared, saying nothing. He had a softness to his face, a somber pall resting around him. Horace felt it. There was also a sense of dread, of being inadequate to stand in the man’s presence, which was odd, since Horace had never seen him before in his life.

The time is near. Your assignment has come up before God, Horace. Soon you will be given your duty. Prepare your heart and your mind.

Horace scooted backwards away from the man, standing near his dining room threshold.

Do not fear. The Lord God is with you. Soon, your part in all that is to come will be revealed. I’ve been sent to tell you. The time is near for His will to be fulfilled.

Horace shook his head. What are you talking about? I don’t even know who you are.

He said the words, but something inside him knew it was accurate. Yes, he didn’t know this man from Adam. That part was true. But he knew this man, and he didn’t understand how. Something told him the words he spoke were important and true. But he couldn’t bring himself to reconcile it with the strange, enigmatic introduction, which brought nothing but fear and unease.

Listen. Sir. I don’t know what you are talking about, but… He wanted to go on and wax eloquent about how it was illegal to break into people’s houses, but it sounded so stupid. Something was happening. His mind raced with the possibilities, but it was that same mind which summoned doubt and unbelief.

You will believe, Horace Mathison. You will come to understand. When you do, you will be ready. The time is near.

Horace looked away at the ground, unable to say anything. The thoughts rushing through his mind were of another sort.

He had read the stories peppered throughout the Scriptures of people who had supernatural encounters with heavenly beings who looked human. It wasn’t normal fare. It only happened when something substantial was about to occur. But did those things happen anymore? In all the years he had been a follower of Jesus Christ, he had read many different stories on the supernatural. There was a faction who believed in the supernatural to an extreme. The devil was under every rock and there was always some kind of demonic activity happening. He understood that, and in a sense, it was correct. But it wasn’t to the level of hysteria those people raised it to be.

Then there were the others who acknowledged the supernatural in Scripture. They believed they took place and were the truth. But in terms of the supernatural happening in the modern world, there was a level of disbelief. The argument was that those things had happened then, but weren’t happening anymore. After Jesus, those things tapered off once the canon of Scripture was complete. Supernatural encounters were no longer needed, nor a reality.

Horace never bought that. It would not make any sense for the supernatural to cease because a book had been written. Though he appreciated their teaching, doctrine, and theology, that particular argument didn’t hold any water.

He had to come to some kind of conclusion about what was happening. Was this a visitation from a supernatural being? Was this an angel? If it was, why did he feel so uncomfortable? He answered that question immediately. These angels were holy, and even in human form, there was something different about them. Though he was a follower of God, he was still a man. That kind of holiness had a level of discomfort, even for the best of believers.

It all rushed through his mind like a tidal wave. He needed more information.

When he looked up, the man was no longer there.

Horace scanned back and forth in the room, ignoring the Geico commercial playing. It all happened within moments. There was no way for the man to have left his home without him noticing. He would have heard the front door or heard the man walking across the floor to go to the front door. But in the seconds he had looked away and back up, the man had disappeared. Vanished.

Horace’s heart raced. He had an acute sense something significant had taken place. His hands shook and he could almost feel his heart in his throat. Hurrying to the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of wine, taking huge gulps to wash away the nervousness invading his body. There was no way he could stay in the house. He had to get some fresh air. Think things through.

Rushing to the front door, he descended the stairs from his porch to the front yard and stood there. It was dusk, the sun waving goodbye on the horizon as the bright beams dissipated in its slow retreat. Horace took a deep breath to calm his nerves. This couldn’t be happening. Could it? No. Not to him. Why should it happen to him? He was nobody. A regular guy living in a regular neighborhood in a regular life. He didn’t have any lineage that would justify being chosen for anything. His family were mostly unbelievers who thought they were good people. He was the familial anomaly.

It was often a point of contention, even when he didn’t bring it up. His profession and living out his faith was like a malaise to them. It made nothing easier in their relationship. He had gotten plenty of opportunities to talk to them about his faith because they were the ones who always wanted to argue about it. He had humored them then, but the arguments were just pointless debates leading nowhere. It was one reason he didn’t come around much, something they were quick to point out was very unchristian-like. He didn’t remember that kind of hostility growing up, but then again, there was no one they knew who was as serious about their faith as he was, and he considered his seriousness mild.

It was odd. Why did they send him to a private school if they didn’t want him learning that stuff? They insisted it was because of the education. It was true the education was better than public schools, at least in his area. But did they really believe he wouldn’t be influenced by it at all? It was a Christian institution, for crying out loud.

He could remember a time where most people identified as Christian. He thought it was common. As American as apple pie. It wasn’t until his conversion he realized most of them were not genuine. They liked to talk a good game, but their lives said something which was the total opposite of what they professed.

Who could he talk to about this? No one in his family. His friends wouldn’t understand, though they would try. He was in between girlfriends at the moment, so there was no significant other. In the final analysis, he had to wrestle with it alone.

The whole incident stayed on his mind for weeks after. He had not seen the man since, and the more time passed, the more convinced he was it was a figment of his imagination. Some vivid illusion or delusion of his mind.

That concerned him. Something like that had never happened to him before. To have such a vivid hallucination was disconcerting. Being in his late 50s, he was getting to that age where things like early set Alzheimer’s could appear. He researched different mental diseases that could manifest such a strong delusion. There were more than a few, all falling under schizophrenia. He wasn’t sure which of the offshoots he had experienced — paranoid, schizoaffective disorder, schizophreniform disorder, or maybe just a brief psychotic episode. Maybe there were some other underlying conditions he knew nothing about. He had checked his family history and found there were only two people who had any kind of mental disorder. His great-grandmother who had dementia, which came about later on in her life, and a second cousin who developed Alzheimer’s. Other than those, there were no issues with schizophrenia he could find. As time passed, it didn’t happen again. Maybe it was an imbalance in his brain. He wasn’t sure, but he was glad it was only a onetime incident.

Until it wasn’t.

He saw the man again outside of his local grocery store. It wasn’t a case of mistaken identity. He had to do a double-take at first. It was as if the man wanted him to see him. There he stood, staring like he had done the last time. When Horace approached him, he disappeared again. That was the beginning of a slew of sightings. At the car wash. Outside of his job. In the grocery store again in the cleaning products aisle. While sitting in his car waiting at a red light. Little by little, the frequency increased. It got to a point to where he saw him every day multiple times a day. He’d gone to his doctor to get a brain scan, but they found nothing. That’s when he showed up again, standing in the room as he was looking at his MRI and x-rays. He didn’t let them know he was there, but it didn’t seem as if they saw him at all, which convinced him that no matter what the brain scan said, something was wrong with him. The next day, he checked himself into the hospital.

The stress of the incident had gotten to him. He thought everything was okay with his life, and here he was, losing the precious mind God had given him. It was an intense time of prayer.

That night, the man showed up again in his room at the hospital. He had been there for three weeks and his vacation time was running out. However, this time the man showed him things, things his mind could never conjure up in a million years. That was the day where the realization of the truth changed from doubt to belief. It changed everything.

Chapter 2

Sessions

Dr. Curtis entered her office, smiling at Horace sitting in the chair in front of her desk. He turned his head slowly towards her, giving her a soft smile.

Good afternoon, Horace. How are you today?

She took a seat in her ergonomic black leather office chair. It squeaked a small retort as she swiveled towards him, grabbing a pen and legal pad.

I am having a moment of clarity unlike any I’ve had in my entire life.

Really? That sounds exciting. Why is that?

Horace stared at her in silence. She wouldn’t believe the truth, but it was the only thing he had.

He visited me last night.

Dr. Curtis nodded. This is the man you have been seeing?

Yes. I found out he wasn’t a man. I knew that already. He only looked that way for my benefit. They’ve done that throughout history.

Dr. Curtis raised her hand and looked at him. Horace’s statement was a sign things were not getting better. The delusions were worse, and it appeared as if he allowed himself to believe them. Surrender was in his voice. She’d heard it before.

And who are the ‘they’ you are talking about? she said, writing notes down on her legal pad.

I know you don’t believe me. For the longest time, I fought it. That’s why I checked myself in here. But that was foolish of me. He turned away, looking out the window, talking more to himself than to her. So foolish. He turned his face towards her again, greeting her with a soft smile. I understand now. At least what I’m supposed to understand. It’s beyond me really, and I’m still not sure why I’m caught in the middle of all of this. But I am. There’s no ignoring it. There’s no running away from it. It is what it is.

Dr. Curtis looked at him, placing her thumb under her chin with her left index finger parallel to her cheek.

What changed since the last time we spoke? If I remember correctly, you were coming to terms that this man you saw was someone you made up in your mind. Now you have gone in an opposite direction. Has anything changed or is this just a decision you have come to?

Yes. Something has changed. As a result, I’m going in the opposite direction.

Dr. Curtis gave a slow nod, writing on her notepad. Inside, she sighed. They had made so much good progress over the past week. Now this. She had seen it before, but each time was always heartbreaking. Of all the people she had seen in similar situations, Horace held the most promise. His sudden shift was a clear sign his delusions were not only getting stronger but taking over his mind. It was important he get another MRI. Whatever they didn’t catch on the first run, they would catch now. His sickness had progressed and no doubt there was something degenerating in his brain.

I know what you’re thinking, Dr. Curtis. You’re thinking I’ve finally lost my mind. It would be a simple explanation. It is the explanation we like to give to people who think differently. But this is not me thinking differently. This is something happening to me, and it’s not what you think.

What is happening to you, Horace? Who was it that visited you? Who do you think this man is?

Horace paused.

It was an angel of the Lord.

Dr. Curtis looked down at her legal pad, continuing to write. More bad news on top of what she had received last night.

She had come home from a good day at work, strong once again in her independence. She had accepted the situation between her and Keith. A part of her still wanted to be with him. They had only seen each other for six months, but it was the most wonderful six months she had experienced in a long time. Their meeting was serendipitous. They had core beliefs of life which were the same. It was refreshing to know there was someone out there who was just for her. That’s what she thought at the time. The problem was he was married with children, a little detail he failed to mention.

Before that revelation, they met often, since he also was a doctor. Being seen together was not something they had to be clandestine about. There were no public displays of affection, but they could be together and talk, a perk most relationships of that caliber did not have. Of course, whenever they wanted to be intimate, it had to be under the table. Their favorite place to meet was a small hotel in nearby Monroe, Michigan. It was far enough away from Toledo that no one would notice them there and even if they did, they would not know they were together. Any time they were in public, they kept it casual. This made their times of intimacy passionate. The built-up sexual tension would explode once the hotel door closed. It was the most intense relationship she had ever had.

That was over now. Things were going well until two weeks ago. She had missed her menstrual cycle and with that revelation came worry. She had not voiced her concern to Keith and waited a few weeks before going to a doctor. He confirmed she was pregnant. That was the news she had received yesterday.

She didn’t want to be bogged down with children in her life right now. At least she thought she didn’t. But that it was Keith’s child meant something to her. It could be the motivation he needed to leave his wife. However, she was afraid to tell him. They hadn’t talked after the break up. That’s why she set up a time to meet with him and tell him the news later on. They planned to have lunch, and she was nervous about it.

Now Horace Mathison was slowly slipping into a more delusional state, and it exacerbated the anxiety she felt. It should not have, but she had always had a problem disconnecting herself completely from her patients. She cared about them. The news from yesterday was a blow to her existence. She wanted something positive to happen. Something tangible.

I didn’t know you attended Yale University, Dr. Curtis.

She looked up to find Horace staring at the awards and accolades hanging on the wall behind her desk.

Yes. I went there for some doctorate work.

That’s impressive. It’s a little puzzling as well. Why would a doctor of your caliber be here in Northwest Ohio at a mediocre facility such as this one?

They brought me here because they thought I would contribute something they never had before. I am here to help people, first and foremost. That includes you, Horace.

I understand, he said, still scanning the awards on the wall. It must be humbling knowing that someone of your caliber is stuck here trying to fix something that’s broke. But that’s your job, correct? His eyes met hers. To fix what’s broken.

Not really. I’m more of a professional guide. I guide people to the solutions to make them better, but they are the ones who have to want to get better. That brings me back to you, Horace. Do you recognize at all that these visions you’re having aren't real? That they are a part of your imagination?

Horace smiled.

A few weeks ago, I would have been in total agreement with you. But I would have been wrong. I find it interesting my delusion only confines itself to one individual I’ve seen.

So you think this man is real?

I know he is. He’s told me things.

Okay. What kinds of things has he told you?

She walked a fine line here. On the one hand, she didn’t want to support his delusion of this man he thought was an angel. However, she also didn’t want to dismiss it outright because he could shut down and set back his recovery.

He told me he doesn’t want to keep the baby.

Angela’s face twisted into a mask of confusion.

What? What are you talking about? What baby?

Horace fixed her with a solid stare.

I would think it would be obvious. I’m talking about your baby, Dr. Curtis.

Angela’s eyes widened as she sat in her seat, stunned.

Excuse me?

The man you have been having an affair with. Keith Draper. You’re going to tell him you’re pregnant and he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want to keep the baby.

Angela stared with her mouth open, dumbfounded. There was no way he could have known that information. She had told no one. Horace was in a secure psychiatric hospital facility. Even if he knew she was pregnant (which was impossible), there was no way he could have known she would tell Keith.

Where are you getting this information, Horace? How could you possibly know that?

I told you. The angel tells me things.

Angela felt her heart racing. It was impossible for Horace to know anything about her pregnancy unless he knew her doctor, and he had divulged that information. That means he would have had to call him and ask for it specifically. But why would Horace do that? Was it to prove his delusions were not delusions and woo her to his side? The whole idea sounded ludicrous. Yet she had heard of patients who had formed an unhealthy attachment to their psychiatrist. Some of them had conjured in their minds that they were in a relationship. In other situations, though rare, the patient idolized and stalked their doctors. None of that explained how Horace would know any of the information he knew. She had told no one of her intention to meet with Keith that afternoon.

I think we’re done here.

Horace’s eyebrows furrowed in a look of puzzlement.

What? I did not say that to make you upset. I said that to let you know I’m not crazy.

We’ll need to double up our sessions during the week, Horace, she said, standing to her feet. I think that’s the only way you’re going to get better. She forced a smile from her lips as she moved towards the door.

I’m afraid that will not be possible.

Why is that?

I won’t be here much longer.

Angela looked at Horace, attempting to control her voice to stay even and calm.

Why are you saying this, Horace?

He’s coming to get me. The angel. He’s coming to get me tonight.

This sounded serious. She understood what it meant.

If the angel takes you, Horace, then there is no way for you to get better. Doesn’t the angel want you to get better?

Why would the angel want me to get better? There’s nothing wrong with me. Recognition filled Horace’s face. But you still think there is. I don’t know how you can think that after what I just said. How could I possibly know that information?

It is because of what you just said, Horace, that I know you need to get better.

Horace stared at the top of the black desk. Angela stepped outside the office, waving over a nearby orderly.

My patient is ready to be taken back to his room. He needs to be kept on suicide watch. He may try to take his life tonight.

The orderly nodded his understanding and walked inside the office.

You ready to go back to your room, Horace?

Horace walked past the orderly through the door. He took three steps towards his room and stopped, turning towards Dr. Curtis.

I don’t blame you for not believing me. But it’s going to happen. I just wanted to thank you before I go. You really tried to help me. I appreciate that.

The orderly escorted him down the hallway as she looked on.

Once he was in his room, Angela entered her office and shut the door. Leaning back against it, she tried to wash away the fear threatening to overwhelm her. Maybe it was her who was losing her mind.

Chapter 3

Welcome to Toledo, Sweetheart

Cassidy stepped off the Greyhound bus, trepidation caressing her with its fingertips as she disembarked. She had done it. She had taken the bus ride all the way from Findlay, Ohio, arriving in the great city of Toledo. It wasn’t the first time she had been there, but it was the first time she had been there on her own. The reason was a good one. The best one. She was in love.

She had met Carlos online in a Facebook group. When she had seen his picture, her attraction to him was instant. There had to be more to him, and she wanted to discover it. So she went to his Facebook profile and looked at the things he posted. Most were pictures of himself and his friends. Her favorite was a picture of him on the side of a pool with his legs dangling in the water, smiling at the camera with his dark sunglasses on. His skin was golden brown; one of those perfect Kodak moments as he leaned back on his hands. Sexy, photogenic, and a body that was killer.

Every time he would make a comment in the group, she would follow with one of hers. Yes. It was an obvious ploy to get his attention. The last thing she wanted was to get beaten out by some skank who couldn’t offer what she could. She had some pictures taken of her in case he ever wanted to go to her profile. There were of the same caliber as his, but some she took especially for him. It wasn’t too long before he noticed, and they began private chats. Video chats ensued soon after. She didn’t want to get her hopes up too high. Though she didn’t think that was the case, she had seen plenty of fake profiles on Facebook. If you got caught up in connecting with them, when it came time to seeing them, you discovered everything was not quite what they presented online. Not with Carlos. He was just as he appeared, and she was ecstatic.

They spent hours chatting via video and voice. Conversations about what she would do to him if they ever met, and what he would do in response. Hormones ran amok between them in the virtual space. It did nothing but fuel her fantasy of him in her mind, where the things they talked about came alive in a vivid display. She wanted him. Bad.

There was just one problem. Her parents. They didn’t know about Carlos, and that was a good thing, since he was older than her. Old enough that it would be statutory rape to be with her since she was only sixteen. It was a well-known fact: women mature faster than men, and so she could handle a man of his caliber. Plus, the simpatico between them was something that couldn’t be denied.

It was hard enough she had to be secretive when talking to him. Her parents attempted to monitor her Internet usage, but she was always one step ahead of them. She knew things about computers they were clueless about. Run-ins with them over the last couple of years had put a definite strain on their relationship. It didn’t help she wasn’t a fan of Bill, her stepdad. To her, he seemed creepy and awkward, always trying to ingratiate himself to her. It appeared weird. She didn’t know how to take him half of the time.

It also didn’t help that he had a say in what went on in that household, though he was the newcomer. Her mom had seen him for about a year before they tested out the blended family. Trevor, her little brother, was in love with the idea since he had always wanted a father figure in the home, though he didn't know how to articulate that. She saw it. That was to be expected. He was young and didn’t know any better. Since their father was in jail and wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon, it was natural for him to gravitate to an older male figure who showed up at the door. Her mother used to take them up to see their dad, but the visit always seemed to end in some argument. Two years ago, the visits stopped altogether. Her mother didn’t care, insisting she had to live her own life. She couldn’t wait for him. Cassidy was grateful for that. Best decision her mother ever made. She had no love for her dad. He was a loser who deserved what he got.

When mom hooked up with Bill, Cassidy was suspect. He seemed to always smile and bring her and Trevor something when he came over. She knew what was going on and wasn’t about to be persuaded by lame gifts, though the iPhone wasn’t that lame. But there was no way she was about to fall for some awkward guy who wanted to get in good with her mother so they could have quality time in the bedroom. Cassidy couldn’t care less about that. He didn’t need her approval. She had her own life to live, and a vast part of it had nothing to do with her mother or Bill.

There was a drastic change when Bill moved in. He was still that creepy-kinda-nice, but then he tried to tell her what to do. Who did he think he was? What made him think he could come into her house and tell her how to live her life? Yet that wasn’t the most disturbing part. That honor was reserved for her mom, who let him do it. For some money and regular sex, her mother had sold her and Trevor up the river. She wasn’t going along for the ride. She refused.

It made living in that house almost unbearable. They were in constant feuds, and her mom was always up in her face. When it got real bad, mom would pull out the threat of kicking her out. Live how she wanted somewhere else. Cassidy was fine with that. She could take care of herself, no problem. Under any other circumstance, she would have let it roll off her back. But the threat came as a result of some strange dude who lived with them now. That made her angry. Her mother would rather kick her own daughter out on the street to please some guy she’d known for two seconds.

With that realization came deep resentment. She didn’t want to fight every single day. Not that she didn’t have the energy. She just didn’t care that much to go through the incessant drama. So, she kept up appearances and stayed away from home