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CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Before he could turn his back, she grabbed his hand and whispered, ‘Don’t go, please.’
Seeing that she was starting to cry again, he held out his hands and she went gratefully into his arms. He held her close and breathed in her scent. It felt good hugging her. She was always a hugger, the affectionate type.
When was the last time that he had hugged her? It was the day before he left for school. It was so long ago, so much had changed. She smelled of peppermint and mothballs. He wondered where the t-shirt that she was wearing had been stored. Reluctantly, he pushed her away and gazed deeply into h
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