114

Isabella 114.

Belladonna Montenegro. Mother. Wife and beloved daughter.

I read the words engraved on the tombstone in disbelief. It was so unacceptable that my mother was gone. When the orderly in charge of her care told me that she had died peacefully in her sleep, I found it hard to believe.

Every waking moment of my mother's life had been a battle for survival. From an irresponsible husband and father who frequented jail like it was his place of work to fighting a brain disease that turned her senile and forgetful.

It had been one problem after the other and all through it all, Belladonna never complained nor did she ask anyone for help. She toughened up through her trials and tribulations. The tears flowed freely as I watched her shiny mahogany coffin being lowered six feet into the ground.

It dawned on me that I was never going to see her again. Not in this life.

I was held by the shoulders by Damien and his mother. Who all wore black. Even Natalia and her